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EDITED  AND  ARRANGED  BY 


LIBRAE 

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L^YJg&RBBS-lSlHSKJI 


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TOURGUENEFF 

AND 

HIS   FRENCH    CIRCLE 


TOURGUENEFF 

AND     HIS     FRENCH     CIRCLE 


EDITED    BY 
E.    HALPERINF.-KAMINSKY 

TRAN'SLATED    h 
ETHEL     M.     ARNOLD 


NEW    YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

29,  WEST  23RD  STREET 
1898 


[All  rights  reserved. ] 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE 

That  Ivan  Serguéivitch  Tourguéneff  was  one  of 
the  most  human  and  lovable  of  men  readers  of  his 
novels  must  long  ago  have  discovered  for  them- 
selves, and  the  letters  contained  in  this  volume, 
written  for  the  most  part  to  his  intimate  friends 
among  that  group  of  remarkable  Frenchmen  who 
made  Paris  what  it  was  in  the  fifties  and  sixties, 
can  only  confirm  this  impression.  It  may  be  said 
at  once  that  Tourguéneff  was  in  no  sense  a  great 
letter-writer.  Letters  were  to  him  precisely  what 
they  have  been  to  many  hard-working  literary 
men  and  women,  such  as  Balzac  and  George 
Eliot  for  instance — viz.,  merely  a  means  to  an  end, 
that  end  being  the  communication  of  necessary 
information  to  his  correspondents.  They  made 
no  demand  upon  his  literary  sense,  and,  conse- 
quently, obtained  no  response  from  it.  Only  very 
seldom,  when,  for  instance,  he  found  himself  back 
in  his  native  land,  on  his  own  property  in  the 
Province  of  Orel,  did  he  indulge  in  letter-writing 
v 


{Translator's  preface 

rightly  so-called,  and  then  only  because  his  sense 
of  the  complete  ignorance  of  his  correspondents 
as  to  his  surroundings  stirred  his  artistic  instinct, 
urging  him  to  produce  graphic  little  word  pictures 
of  his  setting  and  mode  of  life.  For  this  reason  the 
letters  from  Russia  will  probably  be  considered  by  the 
general  public  as  the  mist  interesting  of  the  series. 

But,  as  we  said  just  now,  for  the  lover  of 
Tourguéneff's  novels,  all  the  letters  will  possess  a 
certain  interest  of  their  own,  and  this  not  because 
they  are  humorous,  profound,  or  admirably  turned, 
but  because  they  confirm  the  impression  already 
formed  of  the  man. 

The  last  fifty  years  of  this  century  have  wit- 
nessed many  changes  in  the  world  of  art  and  letters, 
but  perhaps  no  change  has  been  so  marked,  or  so 
revolutionary,  as  that  which  has  taken  place  in 
the  whole  conception  and  character  of  the  novel. 
Fifty  years  ago  the  romantic  convention  reigned 
supreme  ;  truth,  in  our  modern  sense  of  the  words, 
lay  hidden  at  the  bottom  of  the  well.  Time  passed, 
and  romanticism,  together  with  all  the  stage- 
machinery  of  old-fashioned  fiction,  was  thrown 
contemptuously  on  one  side,  and  every  novelist 
went  a-groping  down  the  well  for  Truth.  Many 
of  them  emerged  bearing  inanimate  objects  covered 
with  mud  and  slime  which  they  palmed  off  upon 
a  credulous  world  as  the  long-sought  goddess, 
some  bearing  fragments  of  undoubted  authenticity 


translator's  preface 

but  insufficient  of  themselves  to  satisfy  a  desire  as 
old  as  time,  as  enduring  as  eternity.  Only  one  or 
two,  and  in  our  opinion  TourguénefF  was  pre- 
eminently one  of  this  select  band,  found  what  they 
sought,  and  revealed  to  us  the  clear,  strong,  but 
pitiful  face  of  Truth  herself. 

In  other  words,  the  so-called  "  realism  "  of  our 
generation  has  been  for  the  most  part  arid,  un- 
satisfying, unclean.  Moreover,  in  their  eager 
desire  to  demolish  one  convention,  the  reformers 
only  succeeded  in  establishing  another  in  its  stead. 
On  the  whole,  we  have  been  as  far  as  ever  we  were 
from  those  "  slices  of  life  "  with  which,  according 
to  TourguénefF,  it  should  be  the  business  of  every 
dealer  in  fiction  to  provide  us.  The  realism  of 
the  French  school,  for  instance,  has  failed  to  satisfy 
the  completely  constituted  human  being,  because, 
in  its  constant  appeal  to  the  head,  it  has  altogether 
ignored  the  existence  of  the  heart,  and  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  that  "  innuendo  by  which  the  soul 
makes  its  enormous  claim." 

Sooner  or  later,  therefore,  the  seeker  after  "life 
itself"  turns  away  from  the  masters  of  modern 
French  fiction  with  a  sense  of  weariness  and  dis- 
satisfaction. If,  in  this  mood  of  disappointment, 
he  were  to  take  up  Les  Récits  dyun  Chasseur 
he  would,  we  venture  to  predict,  find  himself 
gradually  filled  with  the  sense  of  having  found 
what  he  sought.  For  there  can  be  no  sort  of 
vii 


Translator's  preface 

doubt  that  however  disillusioned  Tourguéneff 
ultimately  became  with  regard  to  the  political 
destiny  of  his  country,  he  was,  from  beginning  to 
end,  a  man  overflowing  with  genuine  love  for  his 
kind.  Gifted  with  a  rare  insight  into  the  ordinary 
motives  of  human  nature — those  springs  and  wires 
whence  spring  the  strange  antics  we  call  "  life,"  he 
had  what  is  rarer  still,  a  tender  and  understanding 
heart.  Nothing  human  was  outside  the  range  of 
his  sympathy  ;  he  threw  himself  equally  into  the 
life  of  the  serf  and  of  the  serf-owner.  Through  all 
his  analysis  of  human  meanness,  merciless  as  it 
seems  at  times,  there  runs  a  golden  thread  of  pity 
for  the  human  being — pity  of  the  kind  that  purifies 
and  moves  the  heart,  just  as  the  Greek  idea  of 
Nemesis  fortified  the  soul  to  endure  the  larger 
conception  of  the  essential  tragedy  of  being. 

In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  compare 
Tolstoï  and  Tourguéneff,  the  two  greatest  masters 
of  modern  fiction,  with  one  another.  Both  were 
granted  the  gift  of  human  sympathy  in  a  supreme 
degree.  But  whereas  with  Tourguéneff  one  is 
increasingly  conscious,  the  more  one  reads  him,  of 
a  kind  of  sad,  philosophic  acquiescence  in  the 
existing  order  of  things,  as  being  the  product  of 
conditions  essentially  and  eternally  human,  between 
whose  limits  it  is  proper  for  feeling  and  sympathy 
to  operate  freely,  with  Tolstoï  one  is  perpetually 
aware  of  the  spirit  of  the  reformer  and  the  zealot, 


^Translator's  preface 

in  whose  sight  "  whatever  is,  is  bad,"  whose  eyes 
are  forever  fixed  upon  that  shining  land  beyond 
the  mists  and  "  miseries  of  this  present  time,"  which, 
under  all  its  different  names,  is,  and  will  remain  to 
most  of  us,  alas  !  the  land  of  dreams. 

It  will  naturally  be  asked,  if  Tourguéneff  was  so 
full  of  sympathy  with  all  the  various  manifestations 
of  human  feeling,  why  did  he  not  show  more 
active  sympathy  with  the  political  aspirations  and 
struggles  of  his  fellow-countrymen  ?  The  answer 
to  this  question  is  to  be  found  in  his  novels  by  any 
intelligent  reader,  for  each  successive  work  marks  a 
certain  definite  advance  in  that  process  of  dis- 
illusionment from  which,  sooner  or  later,  it  would 
seem,  the  best  men  in  every  reforming  or  revolu- 
tionary movement  inevitablv  suffer.  As  a  young 
man  no  one  was  more  filled  with  generous  political 
enthusiasm  than  was  Ivan  Tourguéneff.  He  made 
no  secret  of  his  liberalism  when  the  holding  of 
such  a  political  faith  was  fraught  with  the  gravest 
danger.  From  the  time  when  the  power  of  reflec- 
tion first  stirred  within  him,  until  the  great  day  of 
fulfilment,  he  longed  for  the  abolition  of  serfdom 
with  an  almost  passionate  intensity.  Early  in  life 
he  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  authorities, 
ostensibly  by  the  frankness  of  his  obituary  article 
upon  Gogol,  but,  in  reality,  because  of  his  political 
tendencies  in  general.  "They  wanted  to  put  a 
stopper  on  my  literary  activity,"  he  writes  to 
ix 


^Translator's  preface 

Madame  Viardot  in  a  letter  which  the  reader  will 
find  produced  in  full  in  the  present  volume. 

What,  then,  was  the  cause  of  that  profound  dis- 
illusionment by  which  all  readers  of  his  later  books 
must  inevitably  be  struck  ?  Again,  we  must  repeat, 
the  answer  is  to  be  found  in  the  books  themselves. 
He  became  disillusioned,  because  he  realised  as  the 
years  went  by,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  revolu- 
tionary movement  could  only  end  in  "smoke,"  that 
the  majority  of  the  reformers,  moderate  men  and 
extremists  alike,  were  characterised  by  that  essen- 
tially Slav  quality,  the  power  and  love  of  talky 
which  seems  for  ever  incapable  of  crystallising 
itself  into  action.  That  there  is  nothing  to  be 
gained  by  knocking  one's  head  against  a  blank  wall 
would  seem  to  be  an  axiomatic  truth,  yet  it  was 
this  very  truth  which  Tourguéneff's  compatriots,  all 
through  those  feverish  years,  seemed  most  deter- 
mined to  ignore,  and  it  was  to  his  realisation  of 
this  fatal  obstinacy  of  theirs  that  his  alienation  from 
the  "  Young  Russia  "  party  was  undoubtedly  due. 
Thanks  to  his  gift  of  insight,  he  saw  clearly  that 
the  salvation  of  his  country  would  not  come  from 
the  Bazarovs  of  the  day  ;  being  convinced  of  the 
futility  of  this  essentially  Russian  type,  he  painted 
it  patiently  and  mercilessly  in  order  that  his  fellow 
countrymen  might  "  read,  mark,  learn,  and  in- 
wardly digest"  the  lesson  it  embodied. 

That  Ivan  TourguénefF  was  a  man  of  naturally 


^Translator's  preface 

sane,  candid,  and  balanced  character  all  readers  of 
these  letters  will  admit  ;  that,  as  such,  he  could 
not  readily  associate  himself  with  a  movement 
marked  from  the  outset  by  a  certain  effervescence 
and  extravagance,  was  only  to  be  expected.  He 
chose  instead  to  fix  his  home  among  people  with 
whom  he  felt  a  strong  intellectual  sympathy,  and 
from  whom  he  derived  an  incalculable  intellectual 
stimulus.  He  was,  in  fact,  a  man  of  letters  first, 
and  only  quite  secondarily  a  politician.  From  the 
first  he  realised  clearly  enough  that  his  work  in  the 
world  was  meant  to  be  artistic  rather  than  active, 
and  that  the  life  of  a  propagandist  must  necessarily 
prove  fatal  to  the  artistic  impulse  he  felt  constantly 
stirring  within  him. 

Can  there  be  any  sort  of  doubt  now,  looking 
back  dispassionately  upon  his  career,  that  he  was 
right  in  his  choice  ?  By  his  life  work  he  not  only 
aroused  all  over  Europe  a  lively  interest  in  the 
problems  and  ideals  of  a  great  but  hitherto  com- 
paratively unknown  country  ;  but,  to  use  the  same 
words  he  himself  used  of  Gogol,  he  "  revealed  his 
fellow  countrymen  to  themselves."  To  complain, 
in  a  word,  that  Tourguéneff  did  not  spend  his 
whole  life  in  his  native  land,  and  throw  himself 
heart  and  soul  into  the  political  agitations  of  the  day, 
is  to  show  an  invincible  confusion  of  ideas  as  to  the 
functions  of  the  man  of  letters  and  of  the  man  of 
action.  A  man  of  genius  must  needs  follow  where 
xi 


{Translator's  {preface 

that  genius  leads  him.  It  led  Tourguéneff  to  live 
in  France,  in  an  atmosphere  whence  he  drew  the 
stimulus  he  needed  for  the  production  of  work 
which  has  not  only  made  his  own  name  immortal, 
but  has  brought  Russia  into  touch  with  modern 
Europe,  and  within  the  range  of  European  sym- 
pathy and  European  ideas. 

But  to  return  to  Tourguéneff's  letters,  which, 
after  all,  concern  us  more  nearly  than  his  novels  or 
his  politics.  The  most  interesting  and  intimate 
among  them,  are,  as  will  be  seen,  addressed  to 
Gustave  Flaubert.  The  two  men  seem  to  have 
conceived  an  instantaneous  liking  for  one  another 
the  first  time  they  met,  and  this  instinctive  sympathy 
developed  into  a  friendship  which  was  only  ter- 
minated by  Flaubert's  death.  Of  the  letters  which 
passed  between  them,  we  see  of  course  in  this 
volume  only  those  written  by  Tourgucneff,  but 
they  are  quite  sufficient  to  show  how  easy, 
affectionate,  and  confidential  were  the  relations 
existing  between  the  two  men.  The  common 
termination  of  "Je  vous  embrasse"  which,  in  order 
to  avoid  the  foreign  air  a  literal  translation  would 
inevitably  have  lent  to  the  correspondence,  I  have 
generally  translated  by  "  much  love  to  you,"  is 
alone  sufficient  to  show  the  closeness  of  the  friend- 
ship.1    But  in  order   that  no  doubt  may  exist  in 

1  The  warmth  of  this  mode  of  ending  is  in  fact  commented  upon 
as  unusual  in  a  passage  in  the  de  Concourt  Journal. 


{Translator's  lpreface 

the  reader's  mind  as  to  its  reciprocal  nature,  M. 
Halpérine-Kaminsky  gives  us  several  quotations 
both  from  Flaubert's  letters  and  from  the  de 
Goncourt  Journals,  which  show  clearly  enough 
that  TourguénefF's  affectionate  admiration  for  the 
author  of  Madame  Bovary  was  cordially  and  amply 
returned.  The  same  may  also  be  said  with  regard 
to  his  relations  with  Georges  Sand,  whom  he  always 
revered  as  the  original  source  of  his  literary  inspira- 
tion, however  far  he  may  have  subsequently  wan- 
dered from  her  artistic  methods  in  his  search  after 
truth. 

As  to  his  intercourse  with  MM.  Daudet  and 
Zola,  M.  Halpérine-Kaminsky  has  much  to  say 
which  was  doubtless  prompted  by  the  generous 
desire  to  clear  the  memory  of  a  great  compatriot 
from  the  odious  suspicion  of  disloyalty.  But, 
while  paying  every  deference  to  the  motives  which 
actuated  him,  we  cannot  help  feeling  that  he  has 
made  somewhat  too  much  of  an  episode  which 
belongs  essentially  to  the  category  of  things  best 
forgotten.  An  anonymous  author,  moved  evidently 
by  some  personal  grudge  against  Tourguéneff, 
published  after  his  death  a  volume  of  so-called 
Recol/ectionSy  in  which  the  dead  Russian  is  made  to 
say  a  number  of  ill-natured  things  about  his  French 
literary  friends,  with  whom  during  his  lifetime  he 
had  always  been,  ostensibly,  upon  the  best  of 
terms.  From  the  evidence  brought  forward  by 
xiii 


translator  s  preface 

M.  Kaminsky  it  is  clear  that  these  Recollections^ 
as  well  as  some  mysterious  letters  said  to  have 
been  written  by  Tourguéneff  to  a  certain  M. 
Sacher-Mazoch  (whom  it  is  clear  the  former  never 
knew,  and  with  whom,  therefore,  he  certainly 
never  corresponded),  are  spurious.  But  apart  from 
this  external  evidence  so  laboriously  collected  by 
M.  Kaminsky,  the  reader  will  probably  feel  that 
M.  Daudet's  own  personal  knowledge  of  Tour- 
guéneff's  character  should  have  saved  him  from 
giving  hasty  credence  to  stories  so  greatly  to  his 
dead  friend's  discredit,  and  so  utterly  opposed  to  his 
impression  of  the  man.  And  as  M.  Daudet  him- 
self would  seem  to  be  somewhat  inclining  towards 
the  same  opinion,  the  incident  may  surely  now  be 
allowed  a  fair  and  decent  burial. 

One  word  more  as  to  the  actual  work  of  trans- 
lation and  I  have  done.  First  and  foremost  I 
should  like  to  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing 
my  cordial  gratitude  to  my  friend,  Miss  Agnes 
Williams-Freeman,  for  without  her  unfailing 
practical  help,  without  the  constant  assistance  of 
her  wide  and  accurate  knowledge  of  French,  this 
version  would  probably  never  have  been  accom- 
plished, and  certainly  would  have  altogether  railed 
to  attain  to  whatever  degree  of  merit  it  may  now 
possess.  There  only  remains  to  be  said  that  my 
object  throughout  the  translation  has  been  to 
reproduce,  as  far  as    possible,  the    easy   colloquial 


^Translator's  preface 

character  of  the  original  ;  and  if  the  freedom  of 
certain  renderings  draw  down  upon  me  the  wrath 
of  the  critic,  I  can  only  plead  in  extenuation 
Tourgueneff's  own  intimate  conviction,  expressed 
in  one  of  the  letters  I  have  considered  it  my 
painful  duty  to  print,  of  the  innate  incompetence 
of  "  lady  translators  "  ! 


ETHEL    M.   ARNOLD. 


Palazzo  Orsini,   Rome, 
November,  1897. 


xv 


Letters  of 
Ivan   Tourguéneff 


The  letters  addressed  by  the  celebrated  Russian 
author,  Ivan  Serguéivitch  Tourguéneff,  to  his 
French  literary  friends,  possess  a  double  interest, 
due,  first,  to  their  own  intrinsic  value,  which  they 
share  with  everything  that  came  from  the  pen  of 
this  master  of  style,  and,  secondly,  to  the  fact  of 
their  being  a  revelation  of  a  side  of  his  literary  life 
hitherto  unknown. 

Russians  have  often  blamed  their  great  poet  for 
having  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  abroad,  and, 
consequently,  for  not  having  been  in  direct  contact 
with  the  men  and  things  of  whom  he  treats  in  his 
books.  Certain  of  his  Russian  biographers  have 
gone  so  far  as  to  assert  that  the  society  in  which 
he  lived  so  long  helped  to  detach  him  completely 
from  Russian  soil,  without  giving  him,  in  exchange, 

I  B 


TLouvQwéneïï  anE» 

either  a  family  or  deep-rooted  friendships  upon  that 
French  soil  where,  according  to  them,  he  always 
remained  morally  isolated.  "The  time  he  spent 
away  from  Russia,  among  strangers,  gave  no  moral 
satisfaction  to  Serguéivitch,"  says  one  of  these  bio- 
graphers, M.  Ivanov,  "and  his  own  people  became 
more  and  more  estranged  from  him  every  year." 

This  biographer,  who  has  just  published  a 
voluminous  essay  upon  Tourguéneff,  in  which  he 
has  collected  all  the  materials  hitherto  known  to 
the  Russian  public,  uses  them  as  the  basis  of 
accusations  against  the  Russian  writer's  French 
friends,  and  as  a  proof  that  their  influence  was, 
more  than  anything  else,  that  of  boon  companions, 
whose  conversation  turned  habitually  upon  women 
and  love.  The  basis  he  gives  for  this  statement  is 
the  fact  that  Ed.  de  Goncourt  says  somewhere  in  his 
Journal,  "  JVoinan  and  Love  :  these  are  always  the 
topics  of  conversation  when  intellectual  men  are 
met  together  for  purposes  of  eating  and  drinking. 
Our  talk  is  always  full  of  doubtful  jests,  and 
Tourgueneff  listens  to  us  with  the  rather  petrified 
astonishment  of  a  child  of  nature  who  takes  his  love- 
making  quite  simply."  According  to  M.  Ivanov, 
fate,  in  attaching  Tourgueneff  to  a  French  family 
and  to  French  society,  showed  very  little  solicitude 
for  the  talent  and  the  moral  aspirations  of  the 
Russian  author.  "  We  know,"  says  he,  "  wherein 
1  domestic    happiness  '    consisted    for    Tourgueneff 


1big  jfrencb  Circle 

under  the  Viardot  roof.  Taken  as  a  whole  it  was 
nothing  but  a  misunderstanding  lasting  over  long 
years,  which  left  nothing  behind  it  in  his  nature  but 
the  bitterness  of  moral  isolation,  and  the  void  result- 
ing from  unsatisfied  feeling.  We  have  seen  what 
kind  of  pleasures  Tourguéneff  might  have  looked  for 
through  the  agency  of  his  Parisian  fellow-artists; 
their  friendship  was  nothing  but  the  artificial  cama- 
raderie of  restaurant  life.  And  in  reality  Tourguéneff 
was  as  much  a  stranger  to  the  guests  at  the  Villa 
des  Fresnes1  as  to  those  at  the  Cafe  Riche." 

As  M.  Ivanov  has  read  the  Goncourt  Journal 
he  might  have  known  that,  even  when  the  habitués 
of  the  Magny  dinners  or  of  those  at  the  Café  Riche 
(otherwise  known  as  the  "  Diners  des  Cinq," 
Tourguéneff",  Flaubert,  Goncourt,  Zola,  and 
Daudet)  talked  of  "  woman  "  and  "  love,"  they  did 
so  as  psychologists  and  men  of  letters,  and  that  the 
Journal  with  all  its  biographical  details  is  of  genuine 
literary  interest,  and  has  moreover  been  useful  to 
M.  Ivanov  himself  in  his  study  of  TourguénefFs 
moral  personality. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  letters  which  we  are 
now  publishing  that  TourguénefFs  relations  with 
his  French  friends  were  above  all  intellectual 
relations,  and  that  some  of  these  friends,  notably 
M.  and  Madame  Viardot  at  the  outset,  and 
Flaubert  afterwards,  had  a  beneficent  influence  upon 

1  M.  Viardot's  place  at  Bougival. 

3 


TEourguéneff  auft 

the  development  of  his  talent  ;  and  to  this  influence 
we  must  undoubtedly  attribute  his  dignified,  clear 
style,  and  that  simple  literary  manner  of  his  which 
attained  perfection  by  very  reason  of  its  simplicity 
— qualities  so  rarely  to  be  found  among  Russian 
writers,  even  among  the  best. 

When,  in  1843,  TourguénefF  made  the  acquain- 
tance of  the  Viardot  family,  he  was  hardly  twenty- 
five  years  old,  and  his  name  was  still  absolutely 
unknown  to  Russian  literature.  At  that  time  his 
only  passion  was  sport,  and  it  was  during  a  sporting 
expedition  that  he  was  introduced  to  M.  Viardot. 
M.  Viardot,  who  had  already  spent  some  time 
in  Russia,  was  on  the  point  of  introducing  to 
the  French  public  the  masterpieces  of  Russian 
literature,  and  was  already  known  by  some  learned 
essays  upon  art  and  foreign  literature.  Madame 
Viardot  who  was  still  very  young — she  was  only 
twenty-two — was  already  a  celebrated  singer,  com- 
bining a  matchless  execution  with  that  inward 
flame,  that  deep  feeling,  and  that  exquisite  taste, 
which  move  the  heart.  These  two  artists  were 
destined  to  produce  a  strong  and  lasting  impression 
upon  TourguénefF's  aesthetic  nature.  And  indeed 
the  friendship  which  he  afterwards  dedicated  to  the 
Viardot  family  preserved  until  his  death,  i.e.,  during 
a  period  of  forty  years,  this  character  of  artistic  and 
intellectual  sympathy. 

"  Foreign   countries  gave   him   what   he    lacked 
4 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

in  his  own,"  says  Madame  Andreiev,  another  of 
TourguénefFs  biographers.  "  The  longings  of  his 
artistic  temperament,  which  were  not  sufficiently 
understood  and  encouraged  with  us,  found  their 
satisfaction  in  the  surroundings  which  he  made  for 
himself  in  the  Viardot  family."  And  she  concludes, 
speaking  of  the  Viardots  as  well  as  of  TourguénefFs 
other  French  friends,  "  By  their  sympathy  in  his 
literary  activity,  bv  their  devotion  to  art,  by  the 
freedom  and  sincerity  of  their  opinions,  they 
gave  to  TourguénefF  just  that  atmosphere  which 
best  harmonised  with  his  character.  .  .  .  They 
and  their  friends  gave  him  courage  to  carry  out 
his  work  to  the  end,  for  the  glory  of  his  country 
which  he  never  forgot."  And,  indeed,  TourguénefF 
himself  says  in  his  Souvenirs,  "  I  should  certainly 
never  have  written  Les  Récits  (Pun  Chasseur  if  I  had 
stayed  in  Russia."  Whence  came,  then,  the  melan- 
choly which  his  intimate  letters  undoubtedly 
betray  ?  Should  its  cause  be  sought  in  his  "moral 
isolation,"  as  M.  Ivanov  asserts  ?  Undoubtedly  not, 
and  this  is  how  TourguénefF  himself  explains  it  : — 
"The  existing  state  of  things,  the  whole  social 
fabric,  and  particularly  the  class  to  which  I 
belonged — the  class  of  landlords,  of  serf-owners — 
held  out  no  inducement  which  could  have  kept  me 
in  my  own  country.  On  the  contrary,  almost 
everything  that  I  saw  about  me  distressed  me,  filled 
me  with  indignation  and  scorn.  I  could  not  remain 
5 


TEourquéneff  anft 

undecided  for  long.  I  had  either  to  submit,  to  walk 
meekly  in  the  common  rut,  the  beaten  path,  or 
tear  myself  away  with  one  wrench,  casting  off 
everything  and  everybody,  at  the  risk  of  losing 
many  who  were  near  and  dear  to  my  heart. 
I  chose  the  latter  course  "  (  Souvenirs  littéraires, 
vol.  x.  of  Tourgueneff\-  Complete  Works). 

It  should  also  be  said  that  the  Russian  climate,  at 
least  of  that  part  of  the  country  where  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  staying,  did  not  suit  him.  As  soon  as 
he  arrived  either  at  St.  Petersburg,  or  at  Moscow, 
or  at  his  Spasskoïé  property,  he  was  seized,  more 
often  than  not,  with  an  attack  of  gout  or  of  some 
other  ailment.  It  is  rare  for  his  letters  from  Russia 
not  to  include  complaints  on  this  head. 

But  in  the  extremely  interesting  and  detailed 
letter  which  I  received  some  years  ago  from  the 
celebrated  poet  Polonsky,  Tourgueneff's  oldest  and 
most  faithful  friend,  I  find  this  passage  amongst 
others  : — 

"With  the  fortune  which  he  (Tourgueneff) 
possessed  he  could  have  wandered  to  the  Caucasus, 
the  Crimea,  the  Ural  Mountains,  or  even  as  far  as 
Siberia.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  limited  his  artistic 
horizon  solely  to  the  provinces  of  Moscow,  Tamboo, 
and  Orel.  How  much  his  field  of  observation 
might  have  been  enlarged,  what  new  types  might 
have  issued  from  his  pen  !  Fate,  however,  decided 
otherwise." 

6 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

And  then  M.  Polonsky  enumerates  a  long 
series  of  causes  which  prevented  Tourguéneff  from 
knowing  his  vast  country  better,  all  of  which  may 
be  reduced  to  one  and  the  same,  viz.,  the  deep 
friendship  which  bound  the  Russian  author  to  the 
Viardot  family. 

We  have  seen  what  was  the  view  of  the 
person  most  concerned  as  to  the  reason  of  his  pro- 
longed stay  abroad.  M.  Polonsky's  explanation 
would  seem  therefore  to  err,  either  on  the  ground 
of  a  certain  poetic  exaggeration,  or  as  the  jealous 
expression  of  friendly  affection,  mingled  with  a 
suspicion  of  patriotic  resentment.  For,  surely,  in 
order  to  get  at  the  soul  of  a  nation,  to  feel  one's 
pulse  beat  in  harmony  with  its  unnamed  multitudes, 
there  is  no  need  to  explore  all  the  parts  of  a  vast 
Empire  ?  To  be  born  in  one  of  those  remote  spots 
which  bear  the  peculiar  impress  of  the  race,  to  live 
there  until  years  of  discretion,  to  grow  up  fashioned 
under  the  influence  of  young  impressions,  to  watch 
carefully,  through  a  whole  lifetime,  the  manifesta- 
tions of  national  life,  sometimes  at  close  quarters, 
but  oftener  from  a  distance  lending  clearness  and 
serenity  to  the  view — all  this  is  sufficient  for  a 
nature  of  real  distinction  to  gain  an  insight  into, 
and  to  describe,  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  a  whole 
nation  and  to  criticise  with  less  prejudice  the 
national  character  and  manners  of  an  entire  period. 

Every    one    knows    in    what    a    large    measure 


Œourgiiéneff  ant) 

Tourguéneff  possessed  this  nature — the  province  of 
Orel  where  he  was  born  is  such  a  spot.  And  thus 
it  was  that  he  was  able,  while  living  in  the  heart  of 
the  Ile  de  France,  to  write  the  Récits  d'un  Chasseur, 
the  most  essentially  Russian,  while  at  the  same 
time  the  most  human  of  books,  and,  while  only 
going  back  from  time  to  time  to  visit  his  native 
land,  to  draw,  in  a  series  of  novels  which  will  live 
as  much  for  their  historical  as  for  their  artistic  ex- 
cellence, a  faithful  picture  of  thirty  years  of  Russian 
social  life.  He  neither  could,  nor  did,  confine  his 
many-coloured  palette  to  the  painting  of  ethnical 
specimens  in  particular  localities  ;  he  both  couK 
and  was  meant  to  show  us  types  at  once  eternal 
and  universal.  Nevertheless  this  separation  from 
his  country  only  intensified  his  attachment  to  it, 
and  he  was,  and  remained,  a  Russian  to  the  marrow 
of  his  bones.  His  French  friends  were  fully  aware 
of  this.  When  his  mortal  remains  were  on  the 
point  of  leaving  France,  that  France  which  he  had 
loved  and  which  had  loved  him,  Edmond  About 
spoke  of  him  as  follows  : — 

"  You  spent  twenty  years  amongst  us,  nearly  a 
third  of  your  life.  Our  arts,  our  literature,  our 
cultivated  pleasures,  made  this  Parisian  life  a  neces- 
sity to  you.  Not  only  did  you  love  France,  but 
you  loved  her  gracefully  as  she  wishes  to  be  loved. 
She  would  have  adopted  you  with  pride,  had  you 
so   willed  it,  but   you  always  remained  faithful  to 


Ibis  jfrcncb  Circle 

Russia,  and  in  so  doing  you  did  well,  for  he  who 
does  not  love  his  country  absolutely,  blindly,  fool- 
ishly even,  will  never  be  more  than  half  a  man. 
You  would  not  be  so  popular  in  the  country 
where  they  are  awaiting  you  if  you  had  not  been 
a  good  patriot.  I  read  in  the  newspapers  that  a 
man  belonging  to  the  most  numerous  and  most 
powerful  class  in  the  world — the  class  of  fools — said 
of  you  :  '  I  do  not  know  Tourguéneff;  he  is  a 
European  and  I  am  a  Russian  merchant.'  This 
poor  simpleton  was  confining  you  too  closely  within 
the  boundaries  of  Europe  even — it  is  to  the  whole 
human  race  that  your  heart  belongs.  But  Russia 
held  the  first  place  in  your  affections.  She  it 
is  whom,  before  all  and  above  all,  you  have 
served." 

Another  French  author,  M.  Charles  Edmond, 
who  lived  during  his  long  literary  career  in  close 
friendship  with  the  most  illustrious  men  in  France, 
and  who  was  himself  for  half  a  century  an  acute 
observer  of  various  intellectual  coteries,  writes  to 
me  in  a  private  letter  : — 

"  In  every  Parisian  set,  no  matter  how  con- 
stituted, Tourguéneff"  was  certain  of  receiving  a 
cordial  welcome.  In  return  he  gave  a  great  deal 
of  himself.  His  immense  intelligence,  his  attrac- 
tive wit,  the  penetrating  sweetness  of  his  manner, 
his  low,  melodious  voice,  all  that  winning  personality 
of  his,  put  him  at  once  upon  a  footing  of  cordiality 
9 


ZTcmrguéneff  anft 

with  them  all  which  soon  ripened  into  genuine 
friendship.  Everybody  enjoyed  his  conversation 
and  delighted  in  his  stories. 

"  Observer  and  subtle  student  of  character  as  he 
was,  resolved  to  maintain,  apparently,  a  settled  calm 
of  manner,  Tourguéneff  would  nevertheless  break 
out  and  become  passionately  excited  whenever  the 
talk  touched  by  chance  upon  one  of  the  three 
questions  round  which  his  whole  life  seemed  to 
centre.  The  abolition  of  serfdom  came  first — that 
is  to  say  until  the  Russian  Government  declared  the 
freedom  of  the  peasants.  Art  came  next — that  is 
painting,  which  to  the  serious  amateur  was  repre- 
sented by  the  masters  of  French  landscape,  such  as 
Millet,  Troyon,  and  Rousseau  first  and  foremost  ; 
and  music,  in  which  his  preferences  lay  in  the 
direction  of  Gluck,  Mozart,  and  Beethoven,  and 
whose  high  ideal  he  justly  found  embodied  in  the 
person  of  Madame  Viardot  ;  and,  finally,  literature 
in  which,  apart  from  his  living  contemporaries,  he 
gave  the  palm  to  Charles  Dickens. 

"  But  the  first  place  in  his  affections  was  un- 
doubtedly occupied  by  his  fellow  Russian  authors. 
He  waxed  enthusiastic  over  their  talent,  praised  their 
merits  to  the  skies.  He  seemed  as  proud  of  them 
as  if  they  were  near  neighbours  or  members  of  his 
own  family.  No  suspicion  of  rivalry  ever  entered 
his  patriotic  Slav  nature.  He  admired  Pouschkine, 
and  raved  about  Mickiéwicz."  All  this  letter  might 
10 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

be  quoted,  and  I  shall  have  recourse  to  it  as  occasion 
serves.  Let  us  first  try  and  get  at  the  truth  of 
certain  facts  in  connection  with  Tourguéneff's  life 
in  France. 

In  1847  Louis  Viardot,  having  been  helped  in 
the  translation  by  Tourguéneff,  published  in  Paris 
several  of  Gogol's  works,  amongst  others  Tarass 
Boulba,  the  Mémoires  d'un  Fou,  the  Calèche,  Un 
Ménage  d'Autrefois,  the  Roi  des  Gnomes.  Belinsky, 
the  greatest  of  Russian  critics,  spoke  very  highly 
of  this  translation,  remarking  that  it  followed  the 
original  very  closely  and  was  written  in  an  easy  and 
elegant  style.  Later,  on  in  1853,  M.  Viardot,  still 
with  the  co-operation  of  the  Russian  author,  trans- 
lated Pouschkine's  Fille  du  Capitaine,  and  afterwards 
almost  all  TourguénefY's  own  works.  But  in  1847, 
when  Tourguénerf  went  with  the  Viardot  family 
to  Berlin,  he  had  only  just  made  his  bow  to  the 
public  with  the  first  of  his  Récits  d'un  Chasseur 
(Khor  et  Kalinytch),  and  his  new  friends  were  far 
from  suspecting  what  a  glorious  future  lay  before 
him.  The  same  year  he  rejoined  M.  and  Madame 
Viardot  in  Paris. 

At  this  time,  TourguénefF,  as  he  himself  related 
in  later  life,  was  entirely  without  pecuniary  resources, 
for  his  mother  who  was  displeased  at  his  departure, 
and  hurt  at  seeing  him,  man  of  rank  and  ancient 
descent  as  he  was,  take  up  a  literary  career,  had 
refused  to  supply  his  needs.  While  thus  situated, 
1 1 


TEomrflnéneff  an& 

he  received  from  the  Viardot  family  the  most 
generous  hospitality  ;  and  Courtavenel,  their  place 
in  Rosay-en-Brie,  was,  to  use  his  own  words, 
his  "literary  cradle."  "Here,"  he  wrote  to  his 
friend  Fet,1  "  having  no  means  of  existence  in 
Paris,  I  spent  the  winter  all  alone,  living  on 
soup,  chickens,  and  omelets,  which  were  cooked 
for  me  by  an  old  servant.  Here  it  was,  that,  in 
order  to  make  money,  I  wrote  the  greater  part  of 
my  Récits  <Vun  Chasseur^  and  here  also  it  was,  as 
you  know,  that  my  Spasskoic*  daughter  came  to 
live."2  This  refers  to  a  child  that  TourguenefF 
had  had  in  his  youth,  whilst  still  a  student,  by  one 
of  his  mother's  serfs.  This  little  girl  being  very 
unhappy  in  Russia,  TourguenefF  made  a  confidante 
of  Madame  Viardot,  who  advised  him  to  have  her 
sent  to  him  and  undertook  to  superintend  her  edu- 
cation. The  death  of  Ivan  Sergueivitch's  mother 
in  1850,  obliged  him  to  go  back  to  Russia,  and  it 
was  not  till  1855  that  he  returned  to  his  friends. 
He  visited  several  European  capitals,  and  then 
settled  himself  with  the  Viardot  family  in  Baden. 
But  the  war  of  1870  forced  them  to  go  back  to 
Paris,  which  in  future  TourguenefF  never  left, 
except  to  go  once  every  year,  or  every  two  years, 
to  St.  Petersburg  or  Spasskoïé,  his  property  in  the 
Province  of  Orel. 

1  A  celebrated  Russian  poel.  :  To  Fet,  Ma  Souvenirs. 

12 


1bts  jfrencb  Circle 

It  was  the  Viardot  family  who  introduced  Tour- 
guéneffto  the  French  world  of  art  and  letters.  In 
their  house,  soon  after  he  arrived  in  Paris  in  1847, 
he  met  for  the  first  time  Georges  Sand,  an  old 
friend  of  Louis  Viardot's,  with  whom  she  had 
founded,  in  1841,  the  Revue  Indépendante.  But  it 
was  not  till  later  on  that,  owing  to  Flaubert,  their 
intercourse  became  regular. 

About  the  same  time  he  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Mérimée,  who  was  already  known  as  the  trans- 
lator of  several  of  the  masterpieces  of  Russian  lite- 
rature ;  about  the  same  time  also,  his  friendship 
with  Charles  Edmond  developed  into  intimacy. 
He  had  first  met  M.  Edmond  at  Berlin,  and  came 
across  him  again  at  the  house  of  Madame  Yazykov, 
one  of  his  compatriots,  which  house  the  famous 
revolutionary  Bakounine,  and  the  exiled  Russian 
author,  Herzen,  also  frequented. 

It  was  Charles  Edmond  who,  on  one  single 
occasion,  introduced  TourguénefY  to  all  the  men 
forming  the  élite  of  the  literary  world  at  this  period 
— Sainte-Beuve,  Théophile  Gautier,  Flaubert,  the 
Goncourt  brothers,  Taine,  Berthelot,  Renan,  Ga- 
varni,  Paul  de  Saint-Victor,  Schérer,  Charles  Blanc, 
Adrien  Hebard,  Fromentin,  Broca,  Ribot,  Nefftzer, 
&c. — in  a  word,  to  all  the  guests  of  the  famous 
dinners  at  the  Magny  restaurant.  He  met  them 
then  for  the  first  time,  except  Flaubert  whom  he 
had  known  since  1858.  In  this  connection  we 
13 


gonrgaénefl  auft 

read  in  the  Journal  des  Goncourt  under  the  date  of 
the  23rd  of  January,  1863. 

"Dinner  at  Magnys: — Charles  Edmond  brought 
Tourguéneff,  that  foreign  writer  with  such  a  grace- 
ful talent,  author  of  the  Mémoires  d'un  Seigneur 
Russe,  and  of  the  Hamlet  Russe.  He  is  a  great, 
big,  charming  fellow,  a  gentle  giant  with  bleached 
hair,  and  looks  like  the  kindly  genius  of  a  mountain 
or  a  forest.  He  is  handsome,  magnificently,  im- 
mensely handsome,  with  the  blue  of  heaven  in  his 
eyes,  and  that  charming  Russian  sing-song  voice, 
in  which  there  is  just  something  both  of  the  child 
and  of  the  negro.  Being  put  at  his  ease  by  the 
ovation  that  was  given  to  him,  he  talked  in  a  curious 
and  interesting  way  about  Russian  literature,  which 
he  declares  to  be  well  launched  upon  the  tide  of 
realism,  from  the  novel  to  the  play." 

Guizot  had  already  expressed  the  wish  to  know 
the  author  of  Le  Journal  d'un  Homme  de  trop, 
which  had  greatly  struck  him  ;  and  Lamartine 
describes  enthusiastically  his  first  meeting  with 
Tourguéneff. 

The  Russian  novelist  was  also  on  terms  of  regular 
intercourse  with  Jules  Simon,  Edmond  About, 
Gounod,  Augier,  Maxime  Ducamp,  Victor  Hugo, 
Jules  Janin,  Francisque  Sarcey,  and  Jules  Claretie  ; 
and  later  on  he  was  introduced  by  Flaubert  to  the 
young  naturalistic  school  represented  by  Zola  and 
Daudet,  who,  together  with  Ed.  de  Goncourt, 
H 


1Ms  jfrencb  Circle 

Flaubert,  and  TourguénefF,  made  up  that  little 
"Company  of  Five"  which  met  at  a  monthly  dinner, 
sometimes  at  Flaubert's,  sometimes  at  the  house  of 
the  Goncourt  brothers.  Finally,  through  Zola, 
TourguénefF  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  young 
writers  who  collaborated  in  the  Soirées  de  Medan, 
and  especially  of  Guy  de  Maupassant. 

We  have  said  something  about  the  influence 
which  the  constant  contact  with  French  men  of 
letters  exercised  upon  TourguénefF's  talent.  It 
would  be  only  just  to  add,  that  he  himself,  in  his 
turn,  must  have  had  some  effect  upon  the  new 
naturalistic  school.  It  is,  indeed,  a  noticeable  fact 
that  naturalism  or  rather  realism,  which,  owing  to 
Flaubert  and  Zola,  was  becoming  a  school  in  France, 
had  been,  since  Pouschkine  and  Gogol,  the  charac- 
teristic of  Russian  literature  ;  and  yet  Flaubert,  as 
Guy  de  Maupassant,  one  of  his  greatest  followers, 
points  out,  grew  up  at  the  time  when  romanticism 
was  at  its  height,  and  was  influenced  by  it. 

"  It  was  one  of  the  most  singular  sides  to  this 
great  man,"  says  Maupassant,  in  his  preface  to  the 
Letters  of  Gustave  Flaubert,  addressed  to  Georges 
Sand,  "  that  this  innovator,  this  revealing,  audacious 
spirit  remained  until  his  death  under  the  ruling 
influence  of  romanticism.  It  was  almost  in  spite 
of  himself,  almost  unconsciously,  impelled,  so  to 
speak,  by  the  irresistible  strength  of  his  genius,  by 
the  creative  force  pent  up  within  him,  that  he  wrote 
15 


tEourguéneff  anft 

those  novels  of  his,  characterised  as  they  were  by 
so  new  a  manner,  so  personal  a  note.  His  inclina- 
tion lay  in  the  direction  of  epic  subjects,  unfolding 
themselves  in  a  succession  of  cantos,  as  it  were,  like 
the  scenes  of  an  opera." 

Tourguéneff,  who  was  the  direct  outcome  of  his 
Russian  masters,  often  insisted,  in  his  conversation 
with  his  French  friends,  upon  the  necessity  of  their 
abandoning  the  old  romantic  forms  with  their 
complicated  situations  and  their  artificial  person- 
ages, in  order  to  give  themselves  up  to  depicting 
real  life  and  human  character.  The  novelists  of  the 
new  school  themselves  never  denied  the  influence 
which  TourguénefFs  works  and  opinions  had 
exercised  upon  them. 

Mérimée,  who  long  before  TourguénefFs  arrival 
in  France,  had  been  familiar  with  the  works  of 
Pouschkine  and  Gogol,  and  who  had  even  met 
Gogol  himself  in  Paris  at  Madame  Smirnov's  1  in 
1837,  said  to  Tourguéneff  one  day,  "  With  you, 
poetry  aims  first  at  truth,  and  beauty  comes  after- 
wards of  itself.  Our  poets,  on  the  contrary,  move  in 
an  entirely  opposite  direction  ;  before  everything  they 
seek  to  be  effective,  light  in  hand,  brilliant,  and  if 
with    all  this    they   can    avoid   outraging  truth  so 

1  Madame  Smirnov,  who  was  sung  by  Pouschkine  and  called  by 
Prince  Viazemky  "  Our  Lady  of  Russian  literature,"  was  in  the  habit 
of  assembling  at  her  salon  at  St.  Petersburg  the  most  famous  writers 
among  her  fellow-countrymen. 

16 


Tbig  jfrencb  Circle 

much  the  better.  ...  In  Pouschkine,"  he  added, 
"  the  true  flower  of  poetry  seems  to  blossom  spon- 
taneously and  to  spring  from  truth  itself." 

In  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  the  author  of 
Colomba,  writing  to  a  Russian  lady  (in  a  letter 
unpublished  in  France),  saw  fit  to  alter  this  opinion  : 
"  In  deference  to  your  wish  and  to  the  importuni- 
ties of  some  Russian  friends,  I  have  read  Dos- 
toievsky's novel  Le  Crime  et  la  Châtiment.  I  am 
told  it  is  his  masterpiece,  but  in  spite  of  the  author's 
great  talent,  I  may  tell  you  frankly  that  the  book 
does  not  please  me.  There  is  a  sense  of  strain,  an 
extravagance  of  feeling  in  it,  which  mitigates 
against  the  truth  of  his  artistic  observation.  He  is 
the  outcome  of  Victor  Hugo  rather  than  of 
Pouschkine.  Is  it  worthy  of  a  Russian  author, 
having  so  lofty  a  model,  to  follow  in  the  footsteps 
of  Hugo  and  to  find  in  him  his  inspiration  ?" 
*  *  *•  * 

TourguénefF's  intercourse  with  the  French 
literary  world  gave  rise,  during  his  absences  from 
it,  to  a  great  deal  of  interesting  correspondence. 
Unfortunately  the  whole  of  it  has  not  been  pre- 
served or  at  all  events  has  not  yet  been  found.  For 
instance,  we  may  consider  as  lost  for  ever  the  letters 
which  TourguénefF  wrote  to  Mérimée,  and  which 
were  burnt  in  the  Rue  de  Lille  during  the  Com- 
mune, together  with  the  other  papers  belonging  to 
the  author  of  Colomba.  M.  Augustin  Filon,  the 
17  •  c 


TEourgueneff  anfr 

author  of  a  very  interesting  book,  Mérimée  and  His 
Friends,  and  through  whose  hands  all  the  biogra- 
phical documents  concerning  Mérimée  have  passed, 
has  kindly  tried  to  recover  this  correspondence,  but 
all  his  efforts  have  been  in  vain. 

We  must  also  give  up,  for  the  present,  all  idea 
of  seeing  the  letters  addressed  by  Tourguéneff  to 
Victor  Hugo,  for  M.  Paul  Meurice  has  been  unable 
to  discover  them  among  the  papers  of  his  illustrious 
friend.  The  same  thing  has  occurred  with  regard 
to  those  addressed  to  Charles  Edmond.  Thanks  to 
the  kindness  of  M.  Jules  Claretie,  who  was  himself 
never  one  of  TourguénefPs  correspondents,  I  have 
been  enabled  to  make  use  of  two  letters  addressed 
by  Tourguéneff  to  Ch.  Edmond  and  of  one  other 
to  Ph.  Burty. 

Jules  Simon  replied  to  my  request  that  he  had 
indeed  "known  and  loved  Tourguéneff  well."  "We 
met  too  often,"  he  adds,  "for  a  literary  correspon- 
dence to  have  arisen  between  us,  and,  moreover,  my 
portfolios  have  been  ruthlessly  pillaged." 

It  was  the  same  with  Francisque  Sarcey,  with 
this  difference — that  he  voluntarily  gave  away  to 
"autograph  hunters"  the  few  insignificant  notes 
which  he  received  from  Tourguéneff. 

A  painful  incident  of  which  we  shall  speak  later 

on,    when     we    come    to    publish     TourguénefPs 

correspondence    with     Zola,    has    kept    Alphonse 

Daudet    from    sending    me    the    letters    which    he 

18 


Ibis  jfreucb  Circle 

received  from  the  author  of  the  Récits  d'un  Chasseur. 
Nevertheless,  according  to  the  testimony  of  Daudet 
himself,  those  letters  are  "  cordial  and  exquisite." 
Let  us  hope  that  in  the  light  of  the  correspondence 
which  we  are  now  publishing,  the  author  of  Le 
Nabab  will  feel  a  revival  of  those  sentiments  which 
he  long  cherished  towards  Tourguéneff  during  his 
lifetime,  and  that  he  will  pay  less  attention  to 
vulgar  gossip.  Finally,  Edmond  de  Goncourt 
assured  me  that  he  possessed  no  interesting  letter  of 
TourguénefF's  because  they  saw  one  another  too 
often.  I  am  afraid  this  replv  conceals  an  irritation 
similar  to  Daudet's,  and  similarly  caused  by  some 
so-called  Souvenirs  sur  Tourguéneff  of  doubtful 
veracity. 

To  sum  up,  then,  we  only  possess  at  present  the 
letters  addressed  by  TourguénefF  to  Madame 
Viardot,  Georges  Sand,  Sainte-Beuve,  Théophile 
Gautier,  Flaubert  and  his  niece  Madame  de  Com- 
manville,  Taine,  Renan,  Charles  Edmond,  Zola,  Guy 
de  Maupassant,  André  Theuriet,  and  Philippe  Burty. 
Only  the  correspondences  with  Flaubert  and  Zola 
are  really  complete,  but  the  whole  series  is  full  of 
great  biographical  interest,  beginning  as  it  does 
with  TourguénefF's  first  literary  appearances  and 
only  ending  with  his  death. 

There  are,  no  doubt  other  letters  of  which  we 
know  nothing.  We  should  be  very  grateful  to 
those  who  possess  any,  if  they  would  send  them  to 
19 


UQurgucneff  anE» 

us,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  giving  pleasure  to  the 
numerous  admirers  of  the  great  Russian  author,  but 
also  to  help  in  establishing  the  truth  of  an  interest- 
ing chapter  in  the  intellectual  relations  between 
France  and  Russia. 

We  have  decided  in  this  publication  to  follow 
chronological  order  and  therefore  begin  with  the 
letters  addressed  to  Madame  Viardot,  to  Flaubert, 
and  to  Madame  Commanville. 


LETTERS  TO  MADAME  VIARDOT. 
i. 

May  1 6,  1850. 

I  am  at  Courtavenel,  and  I  will  confess  that  I  am 
as  happy  as  a  child  to  find  myself  here.  I  have  been 
to  say  "  how  d'you  do  "  to  all  the  places  I  said 
goodbye  to  before  going  away.  Russia  must  wait, 
with  its  vast  and  sombre  countenance,  motionless 
and  veiled  like  the  sphinx  of  GEdipus.  She  will 
swallow  me  up  later  on.  I  seem  to  see  her  large, 
inert  gaze  fixed  upon  me,  with  a  dreary  scrutiny 
appropriate  to  eyes  of  stone.  Never  mind,  sphinx, 
I  shall  return  to  thee,  and  thou  mayest  devour  me 
at  thine  ease,  if  I  do  not  guess  thy  riddle  !  Mean- 
while leave  me  in  peace  a  while  longer  ;  I  shall 
return  to  thy  steppes  ! 

It  is  a  beautiful  day  to-day.     Gounod  has  been 


1bfg  jfrencb  Circle 

walking  all  day  in  Blondureau  wood  in  search  of  an 
idea  ;  but  inspiration,  capricious  as  a  woman,  has 
not  come,  and  he  has  arrived  at  nothing.  At  least, 
that  is  what  he  tells  me  himself.  He  will  have  his 
revenge  to-morrow.  At  this  moment  he  is  lying 
on  the  bear's  skin,  "  in  travail."  He  has  a  deter- 
mination and  a  tenacity  about  work  which  compel 
my  admiration.  To-day's  barrenness  makes  him 
very  unhappy  ;  his  sighs  would  almost  blow  one 
away,  and  he  is  incapable  of  rousing  himself  from 
his  preoccupation.  In  his  depression  he  falls  foul 
of  the  libretto.  I  have  tried  to  cheer  him  up,  and 
think  I've  succeeded.  It's  very  dangerous  to  let 
oneself  go  like  that  ;  one  ends  by  folding  one's 
hands  and  saying,  "  Bother  the  whole  thing." 
I've  listened  to  his  complaints  with  a  slight  smile, 
for  I  know  that  all  these  little  clouds  disappear  at 
the  first  breath  of  inspiration,  and  I  am  much 
flattered  at  being  made  the  confident  of  the  small 
woes  of  creative  genius.  .  .  . 

ÏV.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

TourguénefF  made  Gounod's  acquaintance  at  the 
Viardots  and  kept  up  friendly  relations  with  him  all 
his  life,  but  no  correspondence  between  them  has 
survived.  Madame  Charles  Gounod  writes  to  me, 
"  Gounod  had  a  profound  admiration  for  the  illus- 
trious poet.  He  often  chanced  to  meet  him  at  the 
houses  of  mutual  friends,  but  I  think  that  their 
21 


TTourguéneff  ant* 

intimate  relations  ended  there,  for  among  Gounod's 
numerous  letters,  which  I  have  just  recently  been 
sorting,  I  have  not  found  a  single  signature  of 
Tourguéneff's." 

The  composition  which  was  absorbing  Gounod 
at  the  time  Tourguéneff  wrote  to  Madame  Viardot, 
was  Sapho,  his  first  opera,  which  was  produced 
April  16,  1 85 1  ;  the  libretto,  as  every  one  knows, 
being  by  Emile  Augier.  Suffering  from  a  grief 
which  had  just  befallen  him  in  the  death  of  his 
brother,  Gounod,  together  with  his  mother,  had 
taken  refuge  in  the  country-place  belonging  to  his 
friend  Madame  Viardot.  In  his  recently  published 
Mémoires  d'un  Artiste,  the  author  relates  that  it 
was  owing  to  the  illustrious  singer's  spontaneous 
promise  to  appear  in  his  first  work  that  he  was 
able  both  to  get  the  alreadv  famous  Emile  Augier 
to  write  the  libretto,  and  also  to  make  favourable 
terms  with  the  management  of  the  opera.  On 
hearing  of  the  bereavement  which  had  fallen  him, 
Madame  Viardot,  who  was  at  that  time  in  Germain, 
wrote  to  him  immediately,  begging  him  to  seek  the 
peace  and  solitude  he  needed  in  her  country-place, 
Courtavenel. 

"  I  followed  her  advice,"  adds  Gounod,  "  and  we 
set  out,  my  mother  and  I,  for  the  place,  where  we 
found  Madame  Viardot's  mother,  Madame  Garcia, 
the  widow  of  the  celebrated  singer,  together  with  a 
sister  of  M.  Viardot's  and  a  young  girl  (the  eldest 
22 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

of  the  children),  who  is  now  Madame  Henriette,  the 
distinguished  composer.  I  also  met  there  a  charm- 
ing man,  Ivan  Tourguéneff,  the  eminent  Russian 
author,  and  a  faithful  and  intimate  friend  of  the 
Viardot  family.  I  set  to  work  as  soon  as  I 
arrived." 

ii. 

St.  Petersburg,  February  21,  1852. 
I  cannot  possibly  continue  this  letter  in  the  tone 
in  which  I  began  it  ;  a  very  great  blow  has  fallen 
upon  us.  Gogol  has  died  at  Moscow — died  after 
having  burnt  everything — everything — the  second 
volume  of  Ames  Mortes,  a  host  of  things  either 
finished  or  begun — in  fact  everything.  It  would 
be  difficult  for  you  to  realise  the  extent  of  this 
loss — its  cruelty  and  its  completeness.  There  is 
not  a  single  Russian  at  this  moment  whose  heart 
is  not  bleeding.  To  us  he  was  more  than  a  mere 
writer — he  had  explained  us  to  ourselves.  To  us 
he  was,  in  more  senses  than  one,  the  spiritual  suc- 
cessor of  Peter  the  Great.  These  words  may  seem 
to  you  exaggerated  and  prompted  by  grief.  But 
you  did  not  know  him.  You  only  knew  the  least 
of  his  works,  and  even  if  you  knew  them  all  it 
would  still  be  difficult  for  you  to  understand  what 
he  meant  to  us.  One  must  be  a  Russian  to  feel 
it.  The  most  acute  minds  among  foreigners — a 
Mérimée  for  example — have  seen  nothing  in  Gogol 
23 


ZEourguéneff  an?» 

but  a  humourist  after  the  English  pattern.  His 
historic  significance  has  altogether  escaped  them. 
I  repeat,  one  must  be  a  Russian  to  know  all  that 
we  have  lost.  ...  I.  T. 

in. 

St.  Petersburg,  May  1/13,  1852. 

My  dear  Friends, — This  letter  will  be  brought 
to  you  by  some  one  who  leaves  here  in  a  few  days' 
time,  or  rather  he  will  send  it  to  Paris,  after  having 
crossed  the  frontier,  in  order  that  I  may  speak  to 
you  with  a  certain  amount  of  frankness  and  without 
fear  of  police  curiosity. 

I  will  begin  by  telling  you  that  if  I  didn't  leave 
St.  Petersburg  a  month  ago,  it  was  quite  against  my 
will.  I  am  under  arrest,  by  the  Emperor's  order, 
in  a  house  belonging  to  an  officer  of  police,  for  having 
printed  in  a  Moscow  newspaper  an  article  of  a  few 
lines  on  Gogol.  This  was  only  a  pretext,  the 
article  being  in  itself  entirely  unimportant.  I  have 
been  looked  askance  upon  for  some  time,  and  they 
have  seized  on  the  first  opportunity  which  turned 
up.  I  do  not  complain  of  the  Emperor  ;  the  matter 
has  been  so  wilfully  misrepresented  to  him  that  he 
couldn't  well  have  done  otherwise.  The  fact  is  the 
authorities  wished  to  put  an  end  to  all  that  was 
being  said  about  Gogol's  death,  and  they  were  not 
sorry  at  the  same  time  to  put  a  stopper  on  my 
literary  activity. 


Ibis  jfrencb  circle 

In  a  fortnight's  time  I  shall  be  sent  to  the 
country,  where  I  am  to  remain  until  further  orders. 
All  this  is  not  cheerful,  as  you  may  see.  Neverthe- 
less, I'm  bound  to  say  that  I  am  very  kindly  treated. 
I  have  a  good  room,  books,  and  I  am  allowed  to 
write.  I  was  allowed  to  see  people  during  the  first 
few  days  ;  now  it  is  forbidden  because  too  many 
came.  Misfortune  does  not  put  friends  to  flight 
even  in  Russia.  The  actual  misfortune,  to  tell  the 
truth,  is  not  very  great  ;  the  year  1852  will  have  no 
spring  for  me,  that's  all.  The  saddest  part  of  it  all 
is  that  it  forces  me  to  bid  a  definite  goodbye  to  all 
hope  of  going  abroad.  However,  I  have  never  in- 
dulged in  any  illusions  on  that  head.  I  knew  quite 
well  when  I  parted  from  you  that  it  was  going  to 
be  for  a  long  time,  if  not  for  ever.  Just  now  I  have 
only  one  wish,  and  that  is  that  they  will  let  me 
come  and  go  freely  in  the  interior  of  Russia.  I 
hope  they  will  not  refuse  me  that.  The  Heir- 
apparent  is  very  kindly  disposed.  I  have  written 
him  a  letter  from  which  I  expect  some  good  to 
result  ;  the  Emperor,  you  know,  has  gone  away. 

They  sealed  all  my  papers,  or  rather  they  put 
seals  on  the  doors  of  my  rooms — which  they  removed 
ten  days  later  without  having  examined  anything. 
Probably  they  knew  that  they  would  find  nothing 
of  a  forbidden  nature. 

I  must  confess  I  am  a  good  deal  bored  in  my 
hole.  I  am  taking  advantage  of  this  enforced 
25 


TTourguéneff  anfr 

leisure  to  work  at  Polish,  which  I  began  to  learn 
six  weeks  ago.  I  have  fourteen  days  of  confine- 
ment left  me.  You  may  imagine  how  I  count 
them  ! 

This  is  not  very  pleasant  news  that  I  am  sending 
you,  dear  friends.  I  hope  that  you  will  give  me 
better  news  of  yourselves.  My  health  is  good,  but 
I  am  ridiculously  aged.  I  could  send  you  a  lock  of 
white  hair,  without  exaggeration,  yet  I  don't  lose 
heart.  There  is  sport  waiting  for  me  in  the 
country  !  Then  I'm  going  to  try  and  put  my 
affairs  in  order.  I  shall  go  on  with  my  studies  of 
the  Russian  people,  the  strangest,  the  most  astonish- 
ing people  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  I  shall  work 
at  my  novel  with  all  the  more  freedom  of  mind 
because  it  is  not  destined  to  pass  through  the 
Censor's  clutches.  My  arrest  will  probably  make 
the  publication  of  my  work  in  Moscow  impossible. 
I  am  sorry  for  it,  but  what  can  one  do  ? 

I  beg  you  to  write  to  me  often,  dear  friends  ;  your 
letters  will  help  much  to  give  me  courage  during 
this  trying  time.  In  your  letters,  in  the  memories 
of  bygone  days  at  Courtavenel,  lies  all  my  happi- 
ness. I  don't  let  myself  dwell  upon  these  things 
for  fear  of  upsetting  myself.  You  know  well  that 
my  heart  is  with  you,  and  now  more  than  ever  I 
can  say  that  my  life  is  over,  the  charm  gone  out  of 
it.  I  have  eaten  all  my  white  bread  ;  there  is 
nothing  for  it  now  but  to  eat  such  brown  bread 
26 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

as  remains  and  pray  Heaven  it  be  good,  as  Vivier1 
used  to  say. 

There  is  no  need  for  me  to  tell  you  that  all  this 
must  be  kept  absolutely  secret  ;  the  least  mention 
of  it,  the  least  allusion  in  any  newspaper  whatever, 
would  be  enough  to  ruin  me. 

Goodbye,  dear  friend.  Be  happy,  and  your  happi- 
ness will  make  me  as  content  as  it  is  possible  for 
me  to  be.  Keep  well  ;  do  not  forget  me.  Write 
to  me  often — be  well  assured  that  my  thoughts  are 
always  with  you.  I  embrace  you  and  send  you 
1,000  blessings;  dear  Courtavenel,  I  greet  you 
also  !  Goodbye — goodbve.  Write  to  me  often. 
I  embrace  you  again.     Goodbye. 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

In  his  Souvenirs  littéraires  Tourguéneff  relates 
the  circumstances  of  his  arrest.  The  little  article 
he  wrote  on  the  death  of  Gogol,  and  which  he 
reprints  in  the  Souvenirs,  contained  nothing  seditious. 
It  was  published  in  March,  1852,  in  the  Moscow 
Gazette,  with  the  sanction  of  the  Censor.  But  the 
pretext  was  seized  upon  in  order  to  make  the  young  >x 
author  pay  for  the  boldness  of  his  Récits  d^un 
Chasseur.  Tourgueneff  was  put  under  arrest  for 
a  month.  Happily,  the  two  daughters  of  the  chief 
superintendent    turned    out    to   be   great  admirers 

1  An  improvisor  on  the  cornet,  a  man  of  considerable  wit,  whose 
sallies  often  amused  Tourguéneff  and  all  the  Viardot  family. 

27 


TTourguéneff  anft 

of  his  talent,  and  they  obtained  permission  for 
Tourguéneff  to  occupy  as  his  prison  their  father's 
private  rooms.  It  was  there  that,  profiting  by 
his  enforced  leisure,  he  wrote  his  famous  story 
Moumou,  of  which  Carlyle  said  that  he  had 
never  read  anything  more  touching.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly to  this  work  that  the  letter  we  have 
just  read  alludes. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  period  of  arrest 
Tourguéneff  was  sent,  "  by  administrative  order," 
to  his  property  of  Spasskoïé,  and  forbidden  to  leave 
it.  This  confinement  lasted  until  the  end  of  1854. 
It  was  owing  to  the  intercession  of  the  poet, 
Count  Alexis  Tolstoï,  author  of  The  Death  of  Ivan 
the  Terrible,  and  of  Madame  Smirnov,  whom  we 
have  already  mentioned,  with  the  Grand-Ducal 
heir  to  the  throne,  that  Tourguéneff  regained  his 
liberty.  He  hastened  to  take  advantage  of  it  by 
returning  to  France. 

IV. 

Spasskoïé,  July  7,  June  25,  1858. 
Dear  Friend, — I  have  just  returned  to  Spasskoïé, 
after  an  absence  of  four  days,  to  find  your  letter 
announcing  the  sad  news.1  I  did  not  dare  speak 
to  you  of  my  presentiments.  I  forced  myself  to 
believe  that  all  might  yet  end  well,  and  now  he  is 

1  The  death  of  the  celebrated  painter,  Ary  Scheffer. 
28 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

no  more  !  I  mourn  him  greatly  for  his  own  sake 
and  for  all  that  he  has  carried  away  with  him.  I 
fell  deeply  the  cruel  grief  that  his  loss  must  have 
caused  you,  the  void  you  will  find  it  so  hard  to  fill. 
He  was  so  fond  of  you  !  Viardot  and  Louise " 
must  both  be  very  sad  too.  When  death  strikes  at 
our  ranks,  the  friends  who  remain  ought  to  close  up 
more  tightly  than  before.  This  is  not  consolation 
that  I  am  offering  you,  only  a  friendly  hand  I  am 
holding  out  to  you,  only  a  devoted  heart  which 
bids  you  count  upon  it,  as  you  used  to  count  upon 
that  which  has  just  ceased  to  beat.  I  cannot  help 
thinking  of  the  last  time  I  saw  Scheffer.  He 
seemed  so  well,  that  the  idea  of  its  being  a  last 
meeting  never  even  crossed  my  mind.  He  was 
busy  painting  a  "  Christ  with  the  Woman  of 
Samaria."  I  sat  down  behind  him,  and  we  had  a 
long  talk.  I  told  him  about  my  journey  in  Italy 
(it  was  in  the  first  days  of  May).  I  have  never 
seen  him  pleasanter  or  in  a  better  humour.  What 
a  terrible  blow  for  his  daughter  !  I  am  too  much 
absorbed  by  this  sad  news  to  tell  you  much  about 
myself.  I  will  only  say  in  two  words  that  I  spent 
three  very  pleasant  days  with  some  friends,2  two 
brothers  and  a  sister,  the  latter  a  good  woman  who 
is  very  unhappy.     She  has  been  forced  to  separate 

1  Mademoiselle  Viardot. 

-  At  the  country-place  of  the  Tolstoï  family,  Yasnaia   Poliana, 
which  was  not  far  from  Spasskoïé. 

29 


ZEourguéneff  anft 

from  her  husband,  a  repulsive  kind  of  country- 
bumpkinish  Henry  VIII.  She  has  three  children, 
who  are  growing  up  very  satisfactorily,  especially 
now  that  their  papa  is  no  longer  with  them.  He 
treated  them  very  harshly  on  principle,  giving 
himself  the  pleasure  of  bringing  them  up  in  Spartan 
fashion,  while  he  himself  led  a  life  of  an  exactly 
opposite  kind.  That  sort  of  thing  often  happens. 
Men  get  in  this  way  the  pleasures  both  of  vice  and 
of  virtue — those  of  virtue  by  proxy. 

One  of  the  two  brothers  is  rather  uninteresting  ; 
the  other  is  a  charming  fellow,  idle,  phlegmatic, 
rather  silent,  and  at  the  same  time  very  kind,  very 
gentle,  and  refined,  both  in  taste  and  feeling — a 
really  original  being.  The  third  brother  (Count 
L.  Tolstoï,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  to  you  as  one 
of  our  best  writers^  which  will  make  you  smile  and 
remind  you  of  Fet,  whom  I  shall  see  to-morrow, 
for  he  is  my  neighbour  here — but  to  return  to 
Tolstoï,  he  has  really  and  truly  an  exceptional 
talent,  and  I  hope  some  day  to  convince  you  of  it 
by  translating  his  Histoire  d'une  Enfance  ;  and  now 
I  will  end  this  interminable  parenthesis)  the  third 
brother  who  was  to  have  come  didn't  come.  The 
sister  is  a  fairly  good  musician  ;  we  played  Beethoven, 
Mozart,  &c,  together. 


3° 


Ibis  ff  tench  Circle 


V. 


Spasskoïé,  July  21,  1858. 
Dear  kind  Madame  Viardot, — I  must  begin 
my  letter  with  a  piece  of  news  which  is  distressing 
all  Russians.  Ivanoffthe  painter,  of  whom  I  think 
I  have  already  spoken  to  you  in  my  letters  from 
Rome,  has  just  died  of  cholera  at  St.  Petersburg. 
Poor  fellow  !  after  twenty-five  years  of  work,  of 
privation,  of  poverty,  of  voluntary  seclusion,  at  the 
very  moment  when  his  picture  was  being  exhibited, 
before  having  received  any  reward  whatever,  before 
having  even  convinced  himself  of  the  success  of  the 
work  to  which  he  had  devoted  his  life,  comes  death 
— death  as  sudden  as  a  stroke  of  apoplexy,  but  more 
cruel,  for  it  did  not  go  straight  to  the  brain.  A 
wretched  newspaper  article  full  of  abuse,  endless 
delays,  studied  contempt — that  is  all  that  his  country 
gave  him  in  the  short  space  of  time  which  passed 
between  his  return  to  it  and  his  death.  As  for  his 
picture  l  it  undoubtedly  belongs  to  that  period  of 
Art  upon  which  we  entered  a  century  ago  or  more, 
and  which  is,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  period  of 
decadence.  It  is  no  longer  painting  pure  and 
simple,  but  philosophy,  poetry,  history,  and  religion 
as  well.  There  are  deplorable  faults  in  it,  but  all 
the  same  it  is  a  fine  thing,  a  serious,  lofty  piece  or 

1  The  picture  of  which  Tourguéneff  speaks  is  the  famous  "  Appari- 
tion du  Christ,"  at  which  the  Russian  painter  worked  for  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  and  which  is  his  chief  claim  to  fame. 

31 


XEourpuéneff  an£> 

work,  whose  influence  one  cannot  fail  to  desire  for 
Russia,  if  only  as  a  reaction  against  the  school  of 
Biuloff."  i 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


VI. 

Spasskoïé,  July  31,  1858. 

Here  is  what  I  have  been  doing  during  the  last 
nine  days.  I  have  worked  a  great  deal  at  a  novel 
which  I  have  begun  and  which  I  hope  to  finish  by 
the  beginning  of  the  winter.2  Then  I  went  for  a 
shoot  150  versts  from  here,  and  wasted  thereby 
five  days,  for  the  marshes  were  still  barren,  the 
migratory  period  of  woodcock  and  snipe  not  having 
yet  begun.  At  the  same  time  I  have  been  busy 
with  my  uncle,  settling  my  relations  with  my 
tenants.  Starting  from  the  autumn  they  will  all  be 
put  a  Vobroc — that  is  to  say,  I  shall  give  up  to  them 
half  the  land  for  an  annual  rent,  and  I  shall  hire 
labourers  to  cultivate  my  half.  This  will  only  be  a 
temporary  arrangement  while  awaiting  the  decision 
of  the  Committees,  for  nothing  can  be  definitely 
settled  till  then. 

I  have  just  spoken  to  you  of  a  novel  which  I  am 
busy  writing.  How  happy  I  should  be  if  I  could 
lay  the  plot  of  it  before  you,  describe  its  characters, 

1  The  representative  of  academic  art. 

2  This  refers  to  A  la  -veille,  a  novel  translated  into  French  under 
the  title  of  Un  Bulgare. 

1* 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

and  the  object  which  I've  set  before  myself.  How 
carefully  I  should  treasure  your  remarks  !  This 
time  I  have  thought  over  my  subject  for  a  long 
time,  and  shall  avoid,  I  hope,  those  rash  and  abrupt 
deductions  which  so  rightly  jarred  upon  you.  I 
feel  in  the  vein  for  work,  and  this  notwithstanding 
that  I  have  left  the  enthusiasm  of  youth  far  behind 
me.  I  write  with  a  calmness  which  astonishes  me. 
Let  us  hope  that  the  work  will  not  suffer  there- 
from.    Coldness  generally  implies  mediocrity. 

Ivan  Tourguéneff. 


vii. 
Paris,  February  16,  1865. 
I  haven't  been  to  any  theatre.  It  really  does 
not  amuse  me  to  go  alone.  I  was  present  yesterday 
at  the  opening  of  the  Chambers  in  the  great  "  Salle 
des  États  "  at  the  Louvre.  We  were  packed  like 
herrings.  Three  things  struck  me — first,  the  ex- 
clusively military  character  of  the  ceremony  (the 
only  applauded  passage  being  one  in  which  some 
one  spoke  of  a  new  triumphal  arch  about  to  be 
built)  ;  second,  the  complete  and  entire  absence  of 
pretty  women's  faces  ;  and  third,  the  quality  of  the 
Emperor's  voice.  If  one  could  classify  voices  as 
one  does  heads  one  would  have  said  that  it  was  a 
Swiss  professor  speaking — a  professor  of  botany  or 
of  numismatics.  The  speech  in  itself  was  very 
33  D 


Uourguéneff  an& 

harmless,  very  peaceful   in    tone — and  ambiguous, 
which  goes  without  saying. 

The  Empress  wore  a  very  ugly  gown,  but  she 
has  a  great  deal  of  grace  and  dignity.  The  Prince 
Imperial  looks  very  delicate  and  devitalised.  Prince 
Napoleon,  in  general  appearance,  bears  a  real  resem- 
blance to  Tiberius  or  Domitian.  I  was  to  have 
dined  with  him  yesterday  at  Biscio's,  but  I  refused 
that  honour.  I  don't  like  him  at  all,  and  besides 
he  talked  with  too  much  contempt  of  my  poor 
Russians.  You  cannot  imagine  anything  more 
ridiculous  than  certain  hooded  figures  at  the  cere- 
mony, dressed  up  in  official  uniforms  ;  their  red, 
yellow,  variegated,  and  gilt  headgear  had  a  sham 
Oriental  look  about  it  calculated  to  make  one  die  of 
laughter.  Such  decorations,  medals,  gold  trimmings, 
helmets,  and  plumes  !  Good  heavens  !  and  to 
think  that  all  this  flummery  impresses  people  !  .  .  . 
What  am  I  saying  ?     Why,  it  rules  the  world  ! 

Ivan  Tourguéneff. 


viii. 

Spasskoïé,  July  i,  1865. 
Dear    kind   Madame  Viardot, — I  am  quite 
delighted  with  what  M.    Rietz  I  (whose  acquain- 
tance  I   much   regret   not   to  have   made)  said  to 
you.     It   ought   to    give    you   wings.     It    is    very 

*  Leader  of  the  Gewandhaus  orchestra  at  Leipzig. 

34 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

differeat  from  anything  that  we  humble  amateurs 
could  have  said,  and  if  you  don't  produce  some 
sonatas,  if  I  don't  find  on  my  return  some  beautiful 
adagio  nearly  finished,  I  shall  have  to  scold  you. 
I  can  well  imagine  that  musical  ideas  must  work 
themselves  out  with  greater  fulness  and  freedom 
when  one  has  no  framework  traced  out  beforehand, 
the  colour  and  form  of  which  are  already  fixed, 
and  that  by  some  one  else.  And  now  set  to  work  ! 
I  have  never  admired  and  preached  work  so  much 
as  I  have  since  I  have  been  doing  nothing  myself; 
and  yet  look  here,  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour 
that,  if  you  will  begin  to  write  sonatas,  I  will  take 
up  my  literary  work  again.  "  Hand  me  the  cinna- 
mon and  I'll  hand  you  the  senna."  A  novel  for 
a  sonata — does  that  suit  you  ?  Heavens,  what  a 
prospect  of  feverish  activity  is  opening  before  me — 
enough  to  last  me  the  whole  winter  ! 

Ivan  Tourguéneff. 


LETTERS     TO     GUSTAVE 
FLAUBERT. 

We  have  said  that  the  friendship  between  Tour- 
guéneff and   Gustave   Flaubert   began   as  early  as 
1858  ;    nevertheless   they  did  not   meet  often    till 
1863,  when  Tourguéneff  became  a  regular  guest 
35 


TEoitrfluéneff  anft 

at  the  Magny  dinners.  This  friendship  soon 
acquired  a  touching  closeness,  owing  to  the  equal 
veneration  in  which  both  writers  held  Georges 
Sand — a  veneration  which  with  the  Russian  as  well 
as  with  the  Frenchman  was  of  long  standing,  and 
of  which  we  shall  have  to  speak  when  the  time 
comes  for  the  publication  of  TourguénefFs  letters 
to  Georges  Sand. 

There  was  a  bond,  an  affinity  of  simple  goodness 
between  these  two  kindly  natures.  "  It  was  Georges 
Sand  who  married  them,"  says  Alphonse  Daudet  in 
his  Study  of  TourguénefT,  and  he  goes  on  :  "  The 
boastful,  rebellious,  quixotic  Flaubert,  with  a  voice 
like  a  Guard's  trumpeter,  with  his  penetrating, 
ironical  outlook  and  the  gait  of  a  conquering 
Norman,  was  undoubtedly  the  masculine  half  of 
this  marriage  of  souls  ;  but  who,  in  that  other 
colossal  being,  with  his  flaxen  brows,  his  great 
unmodelled  face,  would  have  discovered  the  woman, 
that  woman  of  over-accentuated  refinement  whom 
Tourguéneff  has  painted  in  his  books,  that  nervous, 
languid,  passionate  Russian,  torpid  as  an  Oriental, 
tragic  as  a  blind  force  in  revolt  ?  So  true  is  it  that 
in  the  tumult  of  the  great  human  factory  souls 
often  get  into  the  wrong  covering — masculine  souls 
into  feminine  bodies,  feminine  souls  into  cyclopean 
frames." 

Goncourt,  Zola,  Maupassant,  all  bear  witness  to 
the  close  friendship  which  bound  Tourguéneff  to 
36 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Flaubert,  but  it  is  in  the  correspondence  of  the 
latter  with  his  friends,  and  specially  with  Georges 
Sand,  that  one  finds,  at  every  step,  traces  of  this 
mutual  affection.  For  example,  in  a  letter  dated 
July  2,  1870,  he  writes  to  the  Lady  of 
Nohant  : — 

"  But  for  you  and  Tourguéneff,  I  don't  know  a 
single  soul  with  whom  I  can  talk  freely  about  the 
things  I  have  most  at  heart — and  you  both  live  so 
far  away  !  "  (Correspondence,  Series  iv.  p.  25). 

And  later  : — 

"  I  spent  a  pleasant  day  yesterday  with  Tourgué- 
neff, and  I  read  him  the  115  pages  of  Saint  Antoine 
which  are  written.  After  that  I  read  him  nearly 
half  the  Dernières  chansons.  What  an  audience  ! 
and  what  a  critic  !  He  dazzled  me  with  the  depth 
and  accuracy  of  his  judgment.  If  only  all  the 
people  who  meddle  with  literary  criticism  could 
have  heard  him,  what  a  lesson  it  would  have  been  ! 
Nothing  escapes  him.  At  the  end  of  a  poem  of 
a  hundred  lines  he  remembers  a  single  weak 
adjective.  On  the  subject  of  Saint  Antoine  he  gave 
me  two  or  three  exquisite  pieces  of  advice  as  to 
detail"  (Correspondence,  iv.  p.  95). 

And  in  a  letter  to  Madame  Régnier  we  read  : — 

"  Madame  Sand  is  now  the  only  literary  friend  I 
have  besides  Tourguéneff.  It  is  true  that  these  two 
are  worth  a  multitude!"  (Correspondence,  iv.  p.  140). 

This  friendship  of  Flaubert's  for  Tourguéneff 
37 


ZTourouéneff  anft 

was  undoubtedly  amply  returned,  as  Flaubert  well 
knew. 

"  Tourguéneff,"  he  wrote  to  Madame  Sand, 
"seemed  very  much  pleased  with  the  two  first 
chapters  of  my  wretched  old  book,  but  perhaps 
Tourguéneff  loves  me  too  well  to  judge  me  im- 
partially" (Correspondence,  iv.  p.  211). 

Tourguéneff  considered  Flaubert  as  the  most 
remarkable  French  writer,  and  Madame  Bovary  the 
most  powerful  work,  of  the  century.  This  latter 
opinion  was  also  held  by  Taine.  From  his  cor- 
respondence we  shall  see  that  he  translated  into 
Russian  the  Légende  de  Saint  "Julien  V Hospitalier 
and  Hérodiade.  He  brought  to  this  translation  so 
much  love  and  so  much  care  that  it  is  considered  in 
Russia  as  a  masterpiece  of  accuracy  and  style,  so 
much  so  that  his  publishers  thought  it  worth  while 
to  include  it  in  the  posthumous  edition  of  his  com- 
plete works.  After  the  war  Flaubert  and  Tourguc- 
neffj  who  had  somewhat  neglected  the  Magny 
dinners,  decided  to  form  a  more  intimate  little  set 
for  social  purposes.  Alphonse  Daudet,  in  the  article 
quoted  above,  thus  relates  its  origin  : — 

"  It  was  at  this  time  that  the  idea  of  a  monthly 
gathering  where  friends  should  meet  over  a  good 
dinner  was  first  conceived.  They  were  called  the 
1  Flaubert  dinners,'  or  the  i  Dinners  of  the  hissed 
authors.'  Flaubert  belonged  to  them  owing  to  the 
failure  of  his  Candidat,  Zola  because  of  the  Bouton 
38 


Ibis  jfreucb  circle 

de  Rose,  Goncourt  because  of  his  Henriette  Maréchal, 
I  because  of  my  ArUsienne.  Girardin  wanted  to 
insinuate  himself  in  our  band,  but  he  wasn't  a 
man  of  letters,  so  we  excluded  him.  As  for 
Tourguéneff,  he  gave  us  his  word  that  he  had  been 
hissed  in  Russia,  and  as  it  was  a  long  way  off  we 
didn't  go  there  to  find  out." 

These  monthly  dinners  were  not  the  only  oppor- 
tunities that  Flaubert  and  Tourguéneff  had  of 
meeting,  for  Flaubert  wrote  to  Georges  Sand  at  the 
end  of  1873  :  "I  see  the  Muscovite  every  Sunday  ; 
he  is  very  well,  and  I  love  him  more  and  more." 

Taine,  Georges  Pouchet,  Claudius  Popelin, 
Philippe  Burty,  Léon  Fladel,  Catulle  Mendés, 
Emile  Bergeras,  José  Maria  de  Hérèdia,  Guy  de 
Maupassant,  Paul  Alexis,  Huysmans,  Léon  Hen- 
nique,  Séard,  Gaston  Toulouse,  also  frequented 
these  Sunday  receptions,  besides  the  regular  guests 
at  the  "  dinners  of  the  hissed  authors." 

"  Often  the  first  to  arrive  was  Ivan  Tourguéneff, 
whom  he  (Flaubert)  would  embrace  like  a  brother," 
relates  Guy  dc  Maupassant.  "  Though  a  still 
greater  man  than  Flaubert,  the  Russian  novelist 
loved  the  Frenchman  with  a  deep  and  rare  affec- 
tion. Affinities  of  talent,  philosophy  and  intelli- 
gence, similarities  of  taste,  of  ways  of  living,  and 
of  ambition,  an  identity  of  literary  tendency,  of 
lofty  idealism,  of  enthusiasm,  and  of  learning,  gave 
them  so  many  incessant  points  of  contact  that  they 
39 


Uourguéneff  ant» 

both  felt  in  seeing  one  another  a  pleasure  that  came 
perhaps  even  more  from  the  heart  than  from  the 
head. 

"  Tourguéneff  used  to  bury  himself  in  an  arm- 
chair and  talk  slowly  in  a  gentle  voice,  rather  weak 
and  hesitating,  yet  giving  to  the  things  he  said  an 
extraordinary  charm  and  interest.  Flaubert  would 
listen  to  him  with  religious  reverence,  fixing  his 
wide  blue  eyes,  with  their  restless  pupils,  upon  his 
friend's  fine  face,  and  answering  in  his  sonorous  voice, 
which  came  like  a  clarion  blast  from  under  that 
veteran  Gaul's  moustache  of  his.  Their  conversa- 
tion rarely  touched  upon  the  current  affairs  of  life, 
seldom  wandered  away  from  literary  topics  or 
literary  history. 

"  Tourguéneff  would  often  come  laden  with 
foreign  books,  and  would  translate  fluently  poems 
by  Goethe,  Pouschkine,  or  Swinburne." 

The  friendship  between  the  two  writers  remained 
true  to  the  end,  and,  even  after  Flaubert's  death, 
Tourguéneff  still  venerated  his  memory,  as  we 
shall  see  from  his  letters  to  his  friend's  niece, 
Madame  Commanville.  It  is  owing  to  Madame 
Commanville,  who  has  already  performed  the  pious 
duty  of  collecting  and  publishing  all  the  corres- 
pondence of  her  illustrious  uncle,  that  we  are  able 
to  make  known  to  the  public  the  whole  series  of 
TourguénefPs  letters  to  Haubert  and  to  Madame 
Commanville  herself. 

+o 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 


Dear  Sir, — Allow  me  to  present  you  with  the 
two  accompanying  volumes.1  I  shall  send  you 
two  more  to  your  house  near  Rouen  later  on  ;  for 
I  must  not  take  advantage  of  your  kindness.  It 
would  be  very  nice  of  you  if  you  would  come  and 
spend  at  least  a  part  of  to-morrow  (Monday) 
evening  at  my  house,  Rue  de  Rivoli  210.  We 
are  having  a  few  friends,  among  others  Madame 
Viardot,  who  is  anxious  to  make  your  acquaintance. 
It  will  be  one  way  of  lessening  a  little  the  regret 
I  feel  at  having  met  you  so  late  in  life.  Mean- 
while please  accept  my  warmest  regards.2 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

Sunday^  Rue  de  Rivoli  210. 

1  The  volumes  of  which  Tourguéneff  speaks  can  only  be  his 
Récits  d'un  Chasseur  and  the  Scenes  de  la  Vie  Russe  in  two  series,  the 
only  works  at  that  time  translated  into  French.  The  Récits  d'un 
Chasseur,  and  the  second  series  of  the  Vie  Russe  comprised  I'Aubrege 
du  Grand  Chemin,  L'Autchar,  Le  Pain  d' Autrui,  Une  Correspondance, 
Deux  "Journées  dans  les  grands  Bois  and  Le  Partage,  translated  by 
Louis  Viardot  ;  the  first  series  comprised  Les  Deux  Amis,  Jacques 
Passinkof,  Moumou,  Faust,  Le  Terrailleur,  Les  trois  Portraits  translated 
by  Xavier  Marnier. 

=  This  undated  letter  is  certainly  the  first  which  Tourguéneft" 
wrote  to  Flaubert  ;  Madame  Commanville  thinks  so,  and  both  the 
tone  and  the  subject  of  the  letter  confirm  this  opinion.  Moreover, 
it  begins  with  the  still  formal  expression  "  Dear  Sir."  It  is  curious 
to  note  the  gradation  of  these  expressions,  according  as  the  relations 
between  the  two  friends  become  more  intimate  :  "  Dear  Sir,"  "  Dear 
Monsieur  Flaubert,''  "  My  dear  Comrade,"  "  My  dear  Friend,"  and, 
finally,  "My  dear  old  Boy." 


41 


Uourauéneff  anfc 


h. 


Paris,  Rue  de  Rivoli  210, 

March  19,  1863. 

Dear  Monsieur  Flaubert, — Your  letter  made 
me  blush  as  much  as  it  pleased  me,  and  that  is 
saying  a  great  deal.  Such  praise  makes  one  proud, 
and  I  wished  I  deserved  it.  However  that  may  be, 
I  am  delighted  to  have  pleased  you,  and  am  grateful 
to  you  for  having  told  me  so. 

I  send  you  a  book  of  mine  which  has  just  come 
out.  I  am  publishing  another  which  I  will  send 
you  as  soon  as  it  is  finished.1  You  will  see  that  I 
no  longer  spare  you. 

Aren't  you  thinking  of  coming  to  Paris  before 
the  summer  ?  I  should  be  so  glad  to  go  on  with 
the  acquaintance  which  began  under  such  good 
auspices,  and  which,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
would  certainly  ask  nothing  better  than  to  result  in 
the  closest  friendship. 

Full  of  the  friendship  I  feel  for  you  already,  I  hold 
out  my  hand  to  you,  and  beg  you  to  accept  my 
most  affectionate  regards. 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


1  The   two   volumes,  the  sending  of  which  is  announced   in    this 
letter,  are  evidently  Roudine  and  Une  Nichée  de  Gentilshommes. 


42 


Ibis  tfrencb  Circle 


m. 


Paris,  Rue  de  Rivoli  210, 

April  6  (18),  1863. 

My  dear  Comrade, — I  hope  there  is  no  need 
to  tell  you  what  great  pleasure  your  second  letter 
gave  me — and  more  than  pleasure.  If  I  didn't 
answer  you  immediately  it  was  because  I  had  to  get 
through  a  host  of  tiresome  little  matters  of  business, 
which  made  me  both  cross  and  idle. 

These  petty  worries  are  still  going  on,  but  any 
further  delay  would  be  on  my  conscience.  I 
counted,  and  I  still  count,  upon  your  indulgence, 
and  I  wish  particularly  to  thank  you  and  to  shake 
your  hand.  Your  approval  has  made  me  very 
happy,  and  I  am  sure  you  know  it.  I  know  well 
that  an  artist  and  a  kindly  disposed  man  like  your- 
self will  read  between  the  lines  of  a  book  a  host  of 
things  of  which  he  generously  gives  the  credit  to 
the  author.  But  never  mind,  praise  from  you  is 
worth  its  weight  in  gold,  and  I  take  it  to  myself 
with  pride  and  gratitude. 

Shall  we  not  see  you  in  the  course  of  the 
summer  ?  One  hour  of  good,  frank  talk  is  worth 
a  hundred  letters.  I  am  leaving  Paris  in  a  week's 
time  in  order  to  settle  at  Baden.  Won't  you  come 
there  ?  There  are  trees  there  such  as  I  have  never 
seen  anywhere,  right  on  the  top  of  the  mountains. 
The  whole  place  is  full  of  vigour  and  youth,  and,  at 
43 


the  same  time,  of  poetry  and  grace,  and  it  does  a 
great  deal  of  good  to  one's  eyes  and  to  one's  soul. 
When  one  is  seated  at  the  foot  of  one  of  these 
giants  one  feels  as  if  one  took  in  a  little  of  its  sap, 
and  that  is  very  good  and  helpful  for  one.  Seriously, 
do  come  to  Baden,  if  only  for  a  few  days.  You 
will  carry  away  from  it  some  famous  colours  for 
your  palette. 

Before  my  departure  you  will  receive  a  book 
of  mine,  which  has  just  been  published.  I  am  sur- 
feiting you,  but  it  is  your  own  fault. 

A  thousand  kind  regards.  Keep  well,  work,  and 
come  to  Baden. 

Yours  ever, 

I.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


IV. 

Bade,  Thiergarten  Strasse  3, 

May  26,  1868. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  am  very  grateful  to  you 
for  having  thought  of  writing  to  me.  Your  letter 
was  a  very  great  pleasure  to  me,  because  it  took  up 
the  thread  of  our  intercourse  again,  and  because  it 
showed  me  that  my  book  pleased  you.  There  is 
no  longer  any  artist  at  the  present  time  who  is  not 
also  a  critic.  The  artist  is  very  strong  in  you  and 
you  know  how  much  I  admire  and  love  him,  but 
I  have  also  a  high  opinion  of  the  critic,  and  his 
+4 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

approval  makes  me  very  happy.  I  know  well  that 
your  friendship  for  me  counts  for  something  in  it, 
but  I  feel  that  a  master  has  stood  before  my  canvas, 
looked  at  it,  and  nodded  his  head  with  a  satisfied  air. 
Well,  I  say  again  that  pleases  me.  I  was  very 
sorry  not  to  see  you  in  Paris.  I  only  stayed  there 
three  days,  and  I  am  still  more  sorry  that  you  did 
not  come  to  Baden  this  year.  You  were  harnessed 
to  your  novel — that's  right.  I  am  awaiting  it  with 
the  greatest  impatience.  But  couldn't  you  give 
yourself  a  few  days'  rest,  whereby  your  friends  here 
might  profit  ? 

Since  the  first  time  I  saw  you  (in  a  kind  of 
hostelry  on  the  other  side  of  the  Seine)  I  have  been 
conscious  of  a  great  drawing  towards  you.  There 
are  few  men,  especially  few  Frenchmen,  with 
whom  I  feel  so  quietly  at  my  ease,  and  so  alive  at 
the  same  time.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  talk  to  you  for 
whole  weeks  together  ;  moreover,  we  are  moles 
burrowing  in  the  same  direction.  All  this  means 
that  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you.  I  start  for 
Russia  in  a  fortnight's  time,  but  I  shall  not 
stay  there  long,  and  by  the  beginning  of  July  I 
shall  be  back  again,  and  shall  go  to  Paris  to  see  my 
daughter,  who  will  probably  have  made  me  a 
grandfather  by  that  time.  I  shall  be  quite  capable 
of  going  to  your  own  place  to  seek  you  out  if  you 
are  there.  Or  shall  you  be  coming  to  Paris  ? 
Anyway  I  must  see  you.  Meanwhile  I  wish  you 
45 


GouvQWcnctt  anft 

good  luck.  That  living  and  human  truth  which 
you  are  pursuing  with  such  indefatigable  energy 
only  lets  herself  be  caught  on  good  days.  You 
have  had  them,  and  will  have  them  again — many 
of  them.  Keep  well.  Much  love  to  you. 
Your  sincere  friend, 

Ivan  Tourguéneff. 


v. 

Bade,  Thiergarten  Strasse  3, 

Tuesday  y  yuly  28,  1868. 

My  dear  Friend, — It  is  very  kind  of  you  to 
have  thought  of  me  and  to  give  me  your  "  pro- 
gramme "  as  you  call  it.  I  have  been  here  for  four 
days,  but  unfortunately  I  have  not  come  back  from 
Russia  alone.  I  have  brought  with  me  a  fine 
attack  of  gout,  which  first  seized  me  at  Macon  and 
again  on  my  arrival  at  Baden.  Here  I  am  on  the 
sofa  with  all  the  inevitable  miseries — oil  of  Indian 
chestnuts,  &c,  &c.  However,  it  is  less  violent  than 
last  year,  and  I  am  not  without  hope  of  getting  to 
my  baths  towards  the  middle  of  next  month,  and 
according  to  the  programme  I  shall  look  you  up  in 
your  lair. 

I  confess  that  I   am  quite  curious  to   make  its 

acquaintance.       I  have   not   seen    Du  Camp    who 

must  be  here.     I  haven't  left  my  room  since  my 

arrival.     In  a  couple  of  days  I  shall,  perhaps,  be  able 

46 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

to  take  short  drives.     Keep  well  and  work  quietly 
and  with  zest.     It's  the  best  way. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

I.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
VI. 

Bade,  Thiergarten  Strasse  3, 

Tuesday,  August  18,  1868. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  have  delayed  till  now  in 
answering  your  kind  little  note,  because  I  was 
always  hoping  to  be  able  to  announce  my  arrival, 
but  my  fiendish  gout  persistently  refuses  to  leave 
me,  and  I  cannot  yet  dream  of  taking  this  rather 
long  journey.  It  is  a  bore,  but  what  can  I  do  ? 
I  will  come  as  soon  as  ever  I  can,  meanwhile  I  send 
you  my  love  and  I  beg  of  you  to  present  my  com- 
pliments to  your  mother,  whom  I  shall  be  very 
glad  to  meet. 

Work  hard  till  I  come. 

I.  TOURGUENEFF. 
VII. 

Paris,  Rue  Laffitte,  Hôtel  Byron, 

Tuesday,  November  24,  1868. 
My  dear  Friend, — The  cheese  has  just  arrived, 
and  I  am  taking  it  to  Baden,  and  at  each  mouthful 
we  shall  think  of  Croisset  and  of  the  charming  day 
I  spent  there.  Certainly  I  am  conscious  of  a  great 
sympathy  between  us. 

47 


gontgtténefi  anft 

If  all  your  novel  is  as  strong  as  the  fragments 
you  have  just  sent  me,  you  will  have  achieved  a 
masterpiece.1     Mark  my  words. 

I  don't  know  if  you  have  read  the  little  book  2 
I  am  sending  you.  Anyway,  put  it  on  one  of  the 
shelves  of  your  library. 

Present  my  compliments  to  your  mother  and  my 
best  love  to  yourself. 

Yours, 

I.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — My  address  is  Poste  Restante,  Carlsruhe. 
It  will  be  very  nice  of  you  if  you  would  send  me 
your  photograph.  Here  is  mine,  which  looks  very 
— forbidding. 

P. P.S. — Find  another  title — U Education  Senti- 
mentale is  bad. 

VIII. 

Carlsruhe,  Hôtel  Prince  Max, 

Monday^  January  25,  1869. 
I  really  must  have  news  of  you,  my  dear  friend. 
Now  in  two  words  :  Where  are  you,  and  how  goes 
the  novel  ?  I  am  writing  to  you  to  Croisset,  and 
very  likely  you  are  in  Paris  in  the  thick  of  things. 
In  any  case  I  don't  suppose  you'll  stay  there  long. 

1  This  refers  to  L' Education  Sentimentale. 

-  Probably  Fumée,  a  novel  translated  into  French  by  Prince 
Galitzin,  and  published  in  March,  1868. 

48 


1ftis  jfrencb  Circle 

I  have  not  yet  thanked  you  for  the  photograph, 
which  looks  very  military  and  well-groomed,  but  it 
is  yourself,  and  that  is  always  good  to  see.  Why 
don't  you  have  a  really  good  one  done  ? 

I  have  often  thought  of  Croisset  and  said  to 
myself  that  it  was  a  good  nest  for  the  hatching 
of  singing  birds.  As  for  me  I  have  done  hardly 
anything.  I  have  embarked  upon  a  piece  of  work 
which  I  dislike,  and  am  wading  sadly  through  it. 
I  can't  give  it  up,  but  when  it  is  finished  I  shall 
heave  a  real  sigh  of  relief. 

Apart  from  some  fragmentary  stuff  in  the  shape 
of  some  literary  memoirs,  which  I  promised  my 
publisher,  I  have  never  worked  at  this  sort  of 
thing,  and  it's  not  amusing.  Oh,  for  two  hours  of 
Sainte-Beuve  !     I  wonder  if  it  amuses  him  much. 

My  best  regards  to  your  mother,  who  sounds  to 
me  the  best  mother  imaginable,  and  a  good  and 
hearty  handshake  for  yourself. 

Yours, 

I.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


IX. 

Hôtel  Prince  Max,  Carlsruhe, 

Sunday^  March  21,  1869. 
My     dear     Friend, — Your    letter,    addressed 
either    to    Stuttgard    or    to  Baden,    has   only    this 
moment   reached   me   here.     I  hasten   to  tell  you 
49  E 


XTourguéneff  anft 

that  I  leave  here  for  Paris  on  Wednesday,  and 
that  I  arrive  there  on  Thursday  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  I  shall  put  up  at  the  Hôtel 
Byron,  Rue  Laffitte.  I  shall  stay  a  week  in 
Paris.  It  is  needless  to  say  how  glad  I  shall  be 
to  see  you.     Meanwhile  I  send  you  my  best  love, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — Remember  me  to  your  mother. 


Bade,  Thiergarten  Strasse  3, 

Sunday,  January  30. 

My  dear  Friend, — In  the  first  number  of  a 
Russian  review  which  comes  out  at  St.  Petersburg, 
and  which  is  called  the  Russian  Messenger1  (it  is, 
so  to  speak,  the  Russian  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes), 
there  is  a  tremendous  article  on  your  book  -  (only 
the  first  part).  It  is  analysed  in  the  smallest  detail 
and  the  whole  plot  is  told.  Both  the  author  and 
his  work  are  much  praised.  The  article  is  called 
"The  New  French  Society."  I  tell  you  all  this 
because  it  may  interest  you,  though  your  head  is 
full  of  something  else  just  now. 

I  am  leaving  Baden  in  four  or  five  days.  I  am 
going  to  spend  two  months  at  Weimar.  My 
address  is  Hôtel  de  Russie,  Grand  Duchy  of  Saxe- 

1  The  real  title  of  this  periodical  is  the  European  Messenger. 
3  This  refers  to  L  Education  Sentimentale. 

5° 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Weimar.  And  I  shall  pass  through  Paris  before 
going  back  to  Russia  in  the  month  of  April.  Give 
me  news  of  yourself.  Are  you  working  hard  ? 
Your  Antoine  often  comes  back  to  my  mind.  Last 
night,  as  I  was  going  to  bed,  I  re-read  the  scene  of 
"Le  Club  de  l'intelligence,"  and  the  Spaniard  made 
me  laugh  out  loud.1 

Say  a  thousand  things  for  me  to  Madame  Sand, 
to  Du  Camp,  and  to  everybody  else. 

Yours  most  affectionately, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XI. 

Hôtel  de  Russie,  Weimar, 

February  20,  1 8  70. 
My  dear  Friend, — The  article  that  M.  Julian 
Schmidt2  has  written  on  U  Education  Sentimentale 
has  not  yet  appeared  in  the  Preussiche  Tahrbucher  ; 
as  soon  as  it  is  published  I  will  send  it  you.  If  you 
care  about  it  I  will  ask  him  to  send  you  his  article 
on  Madame  Bovary.  It  appeared  last  year.  The 
second  number  of  the  European  Messenger,  which 
I  have  just  received,  contains  the  second  and  last 
half  of  the  article  which  I  told  you  about,  and  which 
is  really  more  a  detailed  resume  of  the  novel  than 
anything  else. 

1  Another  allusion  to  U Education  Sentimentale. 

2  A  celebrated  German  critic. 

51 


Xlourguéneg  anft 

Most  people  think  that  "  woman  "  played  too 
great  a  part  in  Frederic's  life,  and  wonder  if  all 
young  Frenchmen  are  like  him.  Yes,  people 
have  certainly  been  unfair  to  you,  but  now  is  the 
time  to  brace  yourself  up  and  to  fling  a  masterpiece 
at  your  readers'  heads.  Your  Antoine1  may  perhaps 
prove  to  be  that  very  missile.  Don't  be  too  long  over 
it,  is  the  burden  of  my  song.  You  mustn't  forget, 
moreover,  that  men  are  measured  according  to  the 
measure  they  have  given  of  themselves,  and  you  are 
bearing  the  burden  of  your  past.  You  have  plenty 
of  energy,  and  "  El  hombre  debe  ser  feroz"  says  a 
Spanish  proverb — artists  especially.  If  your  book 
had  carried  away  only  ten  people  of  a  certain  worth, 
that  would  have  been  enough  in  itself.  You'll 
understand  that  I  am  telling  you  all  this,  not  to 
comfort  you,  but  to  stimulate  you. 

I  have  been  here  ten  days  and  my  one  thought  has 
been  how  to  keep  warm.  The  houses  here  are  badly 
built,  and  the  iron  stoves  are  useless.  You'll  see 
a  tiny  thing  of  mine  in  the  March  number  of  the 
Revue  des  Deux  Mondes.  It's  a  mere  trifle.  I  am 
working  at  something  more  "important,"  at  least 
I  am  getting  ready  to  work. 

I  shall  go  to  Paris  before  returning  to  Russia — it 
will  be  towards  the  end  of  April.  We  shall  see  a 
lot  of  each  other.     If  you  see  Madame  Sand,  give 

1  This  refers  to  La  Tentation  de  Sainte  Antoine,  which  came  out 
four  years  later,  in  1874. 

52 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

her  a  thousand  kind  messages  from  me.     Remember 
me  to  Du  Camp  and  to  the  Husson  family. 

Best  love,  and  cheer  up  !  After  all  you  are 
Flaubert  !  Yours, 

I.  T. 

XII. 

1 6,  Beaumont  Street,  Marylebone,  London, 

May  16,  187 1. 

Happily,  my  dear  friend,  the  news  is  absolutely 
untrue.  Madame  V.,  whom  I  see  every  day,  is  no 
more  dead  than  she  is  54  years  old.  If  the  news 
had  been  true  I  don't  think  I  could  have  answered 
you.  As  it  is  I  can  tell  you  that  your  letter  deeply 
touched  me.  It  is  very  good  to  feel  that  one  has 
a  real  friend,  and  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  having 
proved  it  to  me. 

I  have  been  here  three  weeks.  I  spent  the  end 
of  winter  and  the  beginning  of  spring  in  Russia.  I 
am  staying  here  till  the  1st  of  August,  and  then  I 
am  going  to  Baden.  When  I  am  crossing  France 
I  shall  stop  in  Paris,  if  there  is  any  Paris  left  by 
then,  and  I  hope  I  shall  see  you.  Perhaps  you 
will  come  to  Baden  where  we  shall  be  living  for  a 
short  time  like  moles  hidden  in  their  holes.  And 
you  could  hide  yourself  there  with  us  ;  but  first  of 
all  give  me  news  of  yourself. 

Did  you  ever  receive  a  letter  I  wrote  you  at  the 
beginning  of  the  year  ?  What  did  you  do  with 
yourself  during  that  awful  tumult  ?  Did  you  stay 
53 


ZEourguéneff  ant» 

at  Croisset  ?  Was  it  possible  even  for  you,  I 
wonder,  with  all  your  power  of  isolation  and  con- 
centration, not  to  be  tossed  to  and  fro  like  those 
little  pieces  of  straw  one  sees  blown  about  in  so 
dreary  and  aimless  a  fashion  at  the  open  doorway 
of  a  barn  ?  Did  you  woik,  or  were  you  content  to 
drag  out  an  empty  and  weary  existence  from  hour 
to  hour,  eh  ?  We  have  hard  times  to  go  through, 
we,  who  are  born  onlookers.  What  about  Antoine  ? 
It  has  rooted  itself  in  my  mind. 

I  am  in  England,  not  for  the  pleasure  of  being 
there,  but  because  my  friends,1  who  have  been 
pretty  well  ruined  by  the  war,  have  come  here  to 
try  and  make  a  little  money.  Nevertheless,  there 
is  some  good  in  the  English  people  ;  but  they  all 
of  them,  even  the  cleverest,  lead  such  a  hard  life. 
One  has  to  get  accustomed  to  it,  as  one  has  to  their 
climate,  and  besides  where  else  is  there  to  go  ? 

What  is  Madame  Flaubert  doing  ?  Remember 
me  very  kindly  to  her.  Have  you  any  news  of  Du 
Camp  ?  He  has  disappeared  in  the  tumult  like  so 
many  others.  Write  me  a  few  lines.  Once  more 
I  thank  you  for  the  affection  you  show  me  and  send 
you  my  best  love. 

Your  friend, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — It  is  needless  to  tell  you  that  I  only  re- 
ceived your  letter  this  very  day. 

1  The  Viardot  family. 

54 


1ïMs  jfrencb  Circle 


XIII. 


16,  Beaumont   Street,  Marylebone,  London, 

June  13,  187 1. 

My  dear  Friend, — If  I  have  not  answered  your 
letter  sooner  it  is  because  I  have  not  had  the  courage 
to  do  so — the  events  in  Paris  have  stupefied  me.  I 
was  silent,  as  one  is  silent  in  a  train  when  it  is  going 
through  a  tunnel — the  fearful  noise  fills  one's  ears 
and  deadens  one's  brain.  Now  that  it  has  almost 
ceased  I  can  tell  you  that  most  certainly  I  will  come 
to  you  and  hear  Antoine,  in  August,  about  the  .  .  . 
well  between  the  15th  and  the  20th.  I  have  had 
an  invitation  to  Scotland  for  "  le  Grouse  "  at  the 
beginning  of  August  ;  but  I  shall  be  free  on  the 
15th,  and  on  my  way  back  to  Baden  I  will  stop  in 
Paris  or  at  Rouen,  I  mean  at  Croisset,  if  you  are 
there. 

I  am  so  glad  to  hear  you  are  half-way  through 
your  book  ;  you  would  never  risk  anything  by  hurry- 
ing yourself  a  little — quite  the  other  way.  I  shall 
listen  with  wide  open  ears,  eyes,  and  brain.  I  am 
pretty  certain  it  will  be  very  fine. 

I  shall  not  ask  you  again  to  come  to  Germany. 
I  well  understand  your  dislike  to  putting  your  foot 
inside  it.  I  shall  not  tell  you  either  all  that  is  pass- 
ing through  my  mind  on  the  subject  of  France.  I 
should  have  to  sum  it  all  up  in  a  few  words,  and 
that  I  find  impossible.  When  we  meet  we  will 
55 


TEourgueneff  an& 

discuss  the  matter  quietly  and  at  length — the  con- 
clusion will  not  be  lively,  that's  certain.  I  don't 
know  whether,  as  you  say,  it  is  Russia's  place  to 
avenge  you  ;  but  Germany  is  very  strong  for  the 
present,  and  probably  will  be  so  as  long  as  we  live. 

I  had  a  letter  telling  me  Madame  Husson  had 
gone  mad,  and  then,  again,  that  she  was  dead.  Is 
this  true  ?  I  remember  that  my  swimming-master 
(he,  too,  was  a  Prussian),  used  to  shout  at  me  : 
"  Keep  your  mouth  above  water,  schwere  Noth  !  " 
So  long  as  one's  mouth  is  above  water,  one  is  still  a 
man  ! 

You  have  remained  a  man  all  through  this  time, 
because  you  have  been  working  ;  it  will  all  be  easier 
now. 

Thank  Madame  Flaubert  and  your  mother  for 
their  kind  remembrances.  As  for  me,  I  send  you 
my  love  and  say  au  revoir  till  the  month  of  August. 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XIV. 

Allsau  House,  Pitlochry,  Scotland, 

August  14,  1 87 1. 
My  dear  Friend, — Your  two  notes  caught  me 
here,  in  the  heart  of  Scotland,  where  I  am  shooting 
"  le  Grouse  "  with  a  friend.  I  am  leaving  here  the 
day  after  to-morrow,  the  16th,  and  shall  start  again 
from  London  and  reach  Paris  on  the  18th.  I  wish 
you  could  be  in  Paris  on  that  day,  and  that  I  need 
56 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

not  go  to  Croisset,  for  my  time  is  horribly  short. 
I  shall  stay  in  Paris  at  the  Hôtel  Byron,  Rue 
Laffitte.  Please  manage  so  that  I  may  find  a  note 
from  you  on  my  arrival.  For  greater  safety  I  shall 
copy  this  letter,  and  send  the  copy  to  Croisset. 

My  love  to  you  all  till  our  next  meeting.  Get 
your  Antoine  ready  ! 

Ever  yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XV. 

48,  Rue  Douai, 

Sunday^  10  a.m. 
My    dear    Friend, — I    hoped    to    be  able  to 
look   in   on   you  to-day,  but  I  find   it   impossible. 
I   shall  be  with  you  to-morrow  punctually  at  one 
o'clock. 

It  is  not  that  existence  itself  gets  more  difficult, 
but  it  becomes  more  and  more  difficult  to  get  any- 
thing done.  Life  seems  to  grow  over  our  heads 
like  grass.     Goodbye  till  to-morrow. 

Your  faithful  old  friend, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XVI. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday  Morning. 
My    dear   Friend,— I    spoke  to   Madame  V. 
yesterday  about  the  wish  expressed  by  Madame  E. 

57 


TEoutguéiteff  anfr 

Grisi * — unfortunately  it  is  impossible.  Madame  V. 
has  had  to  make  a  rule  never  to  sing  at  private 
houses. 

She  is  asked  so  often,  that  if  she  consented  once 
there  would  be  no  reason  to  refuse  other  people. 
She  is  very  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  do  anything  in 
this  particular  instance.  When  she  was  younger 
she  could  do  it,  but  now  she  is  obliged  to  take 
great  care  of  herself.  There,  my  dear  friend,  now 
you  have  the  exact  truth. 

I  shall  certainly  come  on  Sunday,  perhaps  sooner. 
I  shall  probably  go  to-night  to  Princess  Mathilde's. 
Much  love  from  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XVII. 

Paris,  48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

November^  1 87 1. 

My  dear  Friend, — This  is  what  has  happened  : 

an   uncle  of  mine,   M.    Nicolas  Tourguéneff,2  an 

exceedingly  good  and  worthy  man,  has  died  lately 

in  Paris,  and  I  have  just  received  a  telegram  from 

1  A  cousin  of  the  famous  Grisi,  and  a  friend  of  Théophile  Gautier's. 

2  Nicolas  Ivanovitch  Tourguéneff,  who  is  referred  to  in  this  letter, 
was  the  well-known  author  of  a  book  written  in  French,  La  Russie 
et  les  Russes,  and  several  other  remarkable  works.  He  was  one  of 
the  confidential  advisers  of  the  Emperor  Alexander  I.,  and  did  much 
towards  improving  the  lot  of  the  peasants  under  that  sovereign.  But 
being  falsely  accused  of  taking  part  in  the  rebellion  of  1824  against 
the  Emperor  Nicolas,  he  died,  an  exile,  in  France  on  the  10th  of 
November,  1871. 

58 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

St.  Petersburg  asking  me  to  write  an  obituary 
notice,  which  notice  must  be  sent  off  to-morrow 
night.  I  consented,  and  here  I  am  tied  to  this 
task.  The  good  Antoine  will  therefore  have  to 
wait  till  the  day  after  to-morrow,  as  I  must  take 
my  article  to  the  family  at  Bougival  to-morrow,  to 
get  various  bits  of  information,  &c.  So  goodbye 
till  Thursday. 

Your  note  of  the  day  before  yesterday  was  not 
left  by  your  servant.  He  probably  went  to  the 
wrong  house.  No.  48,  Rue  de  Douai  is  at  the 
corner  of  the  Place  Vintimille. 

Much  love, 

Iv.   TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XVIII. 

Paris,  48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Friday,  ^January  19,  1872. 
My  gout  has  left  me  again,  my  dear  friend.  I  am 
greatly  distressed  at  all  these  obstacles,  and  to  have 
given  so  much  needless  trouble;  but,  gracious  Heaven, 
it  must  come  to  an  end  sometime.  Tell  me,  what 
day  would  suit  you  ?  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  or 
Saturday  ?  and  if  I  am  not  dead  (as  the  limes 
declares)  I'll  have  myself  carried  to  your  house 
rather  than — oh,  well,  I  await  your  reply. 

Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

59 


Uourguéneff  anfc 


XIX. 


Moscow,  June  26,  1872. 

My  dear  Friend, — You  have  sent  me  your 
plans  for  the  summer — here  are  mine. 

N.B. — For  the  time  being  I  am  in  Moscow,  seized 
by  a  horrid  attack  of  gout,  which  ties  me  to  my  sofa. 
I  was  scarcely  prepared  for  it  after  the  violent  seizure 
of  last  October.  It's  getting  too  common,  and  people 
congratulate  me  too  much  (giving  me  thereon  a 
certificate  of  long  life,  &c.)  ;  mercifully  the  attack 
is  not  too  severe,  and  I  may  hope  to  leave  the  capital 
of  all  the  Russias  on  Sunday  or  Monday — to-day  is 
Wednesday. 

I  shall  go  straight  as  an  arrow  to  Paris,  then 
from  there  to  my  daughter  in  Touraine,  who  is  on 
the  point  of  making  me  a  grandfather  ;  then  from 
there  to  Valery-sur-Somme,  where  I  shall  rejoin  my 
old  friends  the  Viardots.  I  shall  idle  and  I  shall 
work  if  I  can.  Then  I  shall  go  to  Paris,  in  order 
to  meet  there  one  Flaubert,  whom  I  love  much, 
and  with  whom  I  shall  go  to  his  home  at  Croisset, 
or  to  Madame  Sand,  at  Nohant,  as  it  appears  she 
wants  to  have  us  there.  And  then  from  October 
onwards,  Paris.     There  you  are  ! 

My  dear  friend,  old  age  is  a  great  sinister  cloud 

hovering  over   the    future,    the   present,  and   even 

over  the  past,  which  it  saddens  by  blurring  one's 

memories.      (I'm   afraid   this  is  very  bad   French, 

60 


1fMs  jfrencb  Circle 

but  no  matter.)  We  have  got  to  protect  ourselves 
from  this  cloud.  It  seems  to  me  you  are  not  doing 
it  enough. 

I  believe,  as  you  do,  that  a  visit  to  Russia  alone 
with  me  would  do  you  good,  but  it  should  be 
spent  wandering  about  the  paths  of  an  old  country 
garden,  steeped  in  rustic  scents,  and  filled  with 
strawberries,  birds,  sunshine  and  shadow,  all  equally 
sunk  in  sleep,  and  two  hundred  acres  of  waving 
rye  all  around  us.  It  used  to  be  delicious.  One 
finds  inertia  stealing  over  one,  together  with  a 
sense  of  solemnity,  vastness,  and  monotony  ;  a  sense 
which  has  something  animal  in  it  and  something 
divine.  One  comes  out  of  it  as  if  one  had  had 
some  strengthening  bath,  and  takes  up  again  the 
ordinary  mill  of  existence. 

You  must  not  let  the  author  in  you  get  dis- 
couraged. He  must  go  bravely  on  to  the  end.  I 
hear  that  you  were  at  a  delightful  musical  party  at 
Madame  Viardot's  ;  people  seem  to  have  liked  it. 

You  don't  say  anything  about  my  picture,  do 
you  dislike  it,  or  have  you  not  seen  it  ?  Goodbye, 
and  au  revoir,  my  dear  friend.  Let  us  hold  our 
heads  high  before  the  waves  break  over  them. 

Much  love  to  you. 

Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


61 


ZEomrguénetf  anb 

XX. 

St.  Valery-sur-Somme,  Maison  Ruhaut. 
Tuesday,  *July  30,  1872. 

Where  are  you  just  now,  my  dear  friend,  and 
what  are  you  going  to  do  between  now  and  the 
winter  ?  Please  write  me  just  one  line.  As  for 
me  I  have  been  a  fortnight  in  this  little  den  from 
which  I  am  writing,  and  I  should  be  perfectly 
happy  here  if  it  were  not  for  this  accursed  gout 
which  has  got  me  by  the  leg  more  tenaciously  than 
ever.  It  seized  me  six  weeks  ago  at  Moscow,  and 
won't  leave  me.     I  have  had  three  or  four  relapses. 

I  had  begun  to  walk  with  the  help  of  crutches, 
then  with  two  sticks,  then  with  one,  and  now 
here  I  am  again  almost  unable  to  move  at  all. 
Old  age  is  a  horrible  thing,  pace  Mr.   Cicero. 

I  am  here  with  the  Viardots.  I  have  a  charming 
room  where  nothing  hinders  me  from  working,  but 
of  course,  nothing  comes  ;  the  fact  is,  the  springs 
have  got  rusty.  How  is  Antoine  getting  on  ?  Tell 
me  all  about  it. 

This  loan  of  9,  12,  even  15  milliards  impresses 
me  like  a  great  salvo  of  artillery.  You  are  born 
to  astonish  the  world,  you  French,  one  way  or 
another. 

I  have  been  a  grandfather  since  the  18th.     My 
daughter  has  just  had  a  little  girl  who's  been  called 
Jeanne,   and    to    whose    christening    I    am    going 
62 


tug  jfrencb  Circle 

towards  the  end  of  August.  I  shall  have  to  pass 
through  Paris  on  my  way  there  and  back.  If  you 
are  at  Croisset  then,  I  shall  go  as  far  as  that  to 
look  you  up. 

Well,  keep  in  good  health,  and  au  revoir.  Much 
love.  Yours, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 
XXI. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Monday^  October  7,  1 872. 

My  dear  Friend, — Woe  to  him  who  should 
venture  to  congratulate  me  on  my  gout,  on  the 
score  of  its  being  a  certificate  of  long  life.  He 
would  run  serious  risk  of  hearing  bad  language. 

Only  think  !  I  have  been  more  than  a  fortnight 
in  Paris,  and  the  very  day  of  my  arrival  behold 
me  seized  with  a  relapse  (the  8th  or  9th,  I  can't 
count  them  any  longer  !)  I  have  been  a  week  in 
bed  unable  to  budge  !  Last  Thursday  I  made  a 
superhuman  effort.  I  went  to  Nohant.  The 
whole  Viardot  family  was  there.  I  stayed  one  day 
there,  came  back,  and  now  here  I  am  again,  con- 
fined to  my  room,  limping  like  the  poor  devil  that 
I  am,  and  seeing  no  end  to  it.  Never  mind  ;  I 
am  glad  to  have  been  to  Nohant,  and  to  have  met 
there  Madame  Sand,  who  is  really  the  most  agreeable 
woman  it's  possible  to  imagine  ;  all  her  surroundings 
too  are  charming. 

63 


ZTourQiieneff  ant> 

And  now  I  must  go  to  Croisset 1 — but  when  ? 
That  is  precisely  what  I  can't  fix  with  any  cer- 
tainty. All  I  know  is  that  I  shall  go  as  soon  as  I 
have  rested  a  little,  very  likely  at  the  beginning  of 
next  week.  You  shall  be  warned  beforehand.  I 
am  longing  to  see  you,  to  talk  to  you,  and  to  hear 
the  end  of  Antoine.  And  then  we  must  chat  and 
gossip— that  is  an  absolute  necessity. 

Meanwhile  my  love  to  you,  and  au  revoir. 
Yours, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 
XXII. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Wednesday,  December  II,  1 872. 
Well,  here  we  are  at  the  middle  of  December, 
and  no  Flaubert  !  Unfortunately  I  am  not  like 
Mahomet.  I  can't  go  to  the  mountain.  I  can't 
go  anywhere,  for  it's  now  a  fortnight  since  I  left 
my  room,  and  Heaven  knows  how  long  it  will 
last.  My  gout  is,  at  least,  as  obstinate  as  the 
Versailles  Assembly,  and  I  believe  it'll  still  be 
going  on  when  the  other  has  either  dissolved  itself 
or  been  dissolved.  Come,  now,  make  a  little  effort, 
and  come  to  Paris.  In  any  case,  write  and  tell 
me  if  you  think  of  doing  so,  and  when.  No  one 
comes,   and    it's    wretched.       Madame    Sand,   too, 

1  Flaubert's  place  near  Rouen. 
64 


Ibis  jFrencb  Circle 

remains  at  Nohant,  but  I  have  not  given  up   hope 
and  shall  still  say  au  revoir. 
I  send  you  my  love. 

Yours, 

ÏV.  TOURGUENEFF. 
XXIII. 

Paris. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  have  been  here  since 
Monday,  but  I  was  again  seized  on  the  very  day 
of  my  arrival  with  an  attack  of  gout.  I  hope  that 
it  is  the  last,  and  I  am  going  out  to-day  for  the 
first  time,  but  I  can't  yet  get  up  your  stairs.  I 
shall  come  to-morrow  punctually,  and  I  shall 
manage  somehow  to  get  up  to  you.  I  thought  of 
writing  to  tell  you  to  come  to  me,  but  I  am  staying 
in  the  Viardots'  house,  which  is  still  a  veritable 
chaos.  And,  moreover,  I  was  furious  at  being  in 
bed.  Till  to-morrow  then.  I  shall  be  very  glad 
to  see  you. 

I  am  staying  at  48,  Rue  de  Douai,  but   don't 
come  to  me,  I'll  come  to  you. 
Yours, 

ÏV.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XXIV. 

Paris,  48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday,  June  7,  1873. 
My  dear  Friend, — You're  much  mistaken   if 
you  think  I  am  not  as  proud  as  a  peacock  at  all  the 
65  F 


XTourguénetf  anft 

things  you  say  to  me  in  your  letter.  It's  a  letter  I 
shall  always  treasure  ;  seriously,  I  must  tell  you  you 
have  given  me  a  very  great  pleasure,  and  I  am  glad 
to  see  I  have  done  the  same  to  you. 

I  am  very  grateful.  You  are  right  in  finding 
the  first  story  (Etrange  Histoire)  too  short.  It 
wanted  much  more  developing.  It  contains  psy- 
chological conditions  which  it  is  not  sufficient 
merely  to  indicate  ;  but  alas  for  my  idleness  ! 

I  am  still  here,  but  I  am  leaving  to-morrow.  I 
will  write  to  you  from  Vienna,  and  certainly  from 
Carlsbad.  Go  on  working.  No,  there  is  no  need 
to  tell  you  that.  You  are  as  industrious  as  an  ant. 
But  keep  well  and  expect  me  at  Croisset  at  the 
beginning  of  August.  All  the  family  is  well  and 
sends  you  many  messages. 

I  send  you  my  best  love  and  am  always, 
Your  old  friend, 

Iv.    ToURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — They  will  send  you  my  other  volume  as 
soon  as  it  appears.     I  am  rather  nervous  about  it.1 


xxv. 

Bougival,  Seine-et-Oise,  Maison  Halgan, 
Wednesday^  August  6,  1873. 
You  say  too  kind  things  to  me,  my  dear  friend. 
They  make  me  blush  with  pleasure  and  confusion. 

1  This  evidently  refers  to  Les  Eaux  Printanières,  which  was  pub- 
lished in  Russia  in  1 8 7 1,  and  translated  into  French  some  time  after. 

66 


HMs  jfrencb  Circle 

All  the  same  it  was  very  nice,  and  those  old  Latin 
authors  were  right  when  they  spoke  of  laudate  a 
laudante  viro. 

I  am  glad  and  very  proud  to  have  given  pleasure 
to  my  dear  old  Flaubert  and  to  the  author  of 
Antoine;  and  it  was  very  nice  of  him  to  say  all 
he  did  to  me.  Perhaps  my  letter  will  not  find  you 
at  Croisset,  but  never  mind,  it  must  go.  On  the 
i  Oth  of  September  I  shall  arrive,  and  we  sha'n't  be 
dull — far  from  it. 

Do  you  know  that  all  our  party  (I  mean  my 
friends  here,  who  send  you  many  kind  messages) 
are  going  at  the  end  of  September  to  spend  at  least 
a  week  at  Nohant  ?  If  you  would  come  too  that 
would  indeed  be  a  triumph. 

It's  abominably  hot  here,  and  in  spite  of  closed 
shutters  I  am  simply  streaming  with  heat.  Writing 
is  really  heroic  under  such  conditions.  Therefore 
you  must  let  me  send  you  my  best  love  and  wish 
you  au  revoir,  and  once  more  many  thanks. 
Your  faithful  old  friend, 

IV.    ToURGUÉNEFF. 


XXVI. 

Bougival,  Seine-et-Oise,  Maison  Halgan, 

Thursday,  August  28,  1873. 
My  dear  Friend, — Dead  or  alive  I  shall  come 
to  you  at  Croisset — but  this  is  how  I  am  situated. 
67 


TTourgnéneff  anft 

Two  years  ago,  in  England,  I  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  very  pleasant  fellow  called  Bullock,  who 
had  an  extremely  rich  uncle,  an  old  retired  General 
called  Hall. 

General  Hall  possessed — the  finest  partridge 
shooting  in  the  whole  of  England  !  !  ! 

No  less  than  that.  But  he  was  an  original  kind 
of  man  who  used  to  shoot  quite  alone,  and  only 
invited  his  nephew  from  time  to  time,  and  now  he's 
dead  and  has  left  all  his  fortune,  his  name,  and  his 
shooting  to  his  nephew.  Now,  lo  and  behold,  the 
nephew  has  remembered  me,  and  invited  me  to  go 
and  stay  with  him,  and  kill  mountains  of  partridges, 
between  the  9th  and  the  14th  of  September.  In 
spite  of  my  boundless  passion  for  sport,  the  only 
pleasure  which  is  left  to  me,  I  remembered  my 
promise  and  gave  an  evasive  answer,  all  the  more  so 
because  I  don't  know  if  my  gout  will  allow  me  such 
escapades.  And  indeed  there  is  something  shocking 
in  an  old  greybeard  like  myself  crossing  the  sea 
twice  in  order  to  pour  a  lot  of  lead  into  a  lot  of 
partridges  ! 

The  fact  is  I  am  undecided  and  this  is  why  :  I 
may  as  well  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  !  I  want  you 
to  let  me  put  off  my  arrival  at  Croisset  for  five 
days,  that  is  to  say,  to  let  me  come  on  the  15  th 
instead  of  the  10th.  It  is  more  than  probable  I 
shall  not  go  to  England,  but  in  that  way  I  shall  be 
easy  in  my  mind.  And  now  that  is  settled,  isn't 
68 


1F319  jfrencb  Circle 

it  ?  I  must  go  to  Paris  on  Saturday  on  business — 
punctually  at  12  o'clock  I  shall  be  at  the  Café 
Riche  for  lunch.  If  you  could  be  there  too,  that 
would  be  splendid.  If  not,  I  shall  know  that  you 
agree  to  this  little  delay  and  are  not  too  much 
annoyed. 

Meanwhile   I   wish   you  good  health  and   good 
spirits  and  send  you  my  love. 
Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XXVII. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Saturday ,  December  6,  1 873. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  didn't  answer  you  at  once 
because  I  have  been  staying  for  three  days  with  my 
daughter.  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  have  finished 
your  play,1  and  am  not  at  all  surprised  at  all  Carvalho's 
changes  of  front.  You'll  have  to  put  up  with  a 
good  deal  more,  and  from  henceforward  you  will 
have  to  wrap  your  nerves  in  steel,  as  the  Germans 
say,  for  the  very  reason  that  your  play  is  not  at  all 
like  anything  which  has  yet  been  done.  The  great 
thing  is  to  get  through  all  these  worries  of  produc- 
tion as  calmly  as  possible. 

I  am  much  looking  forward  to  seeing  you  soon. 
I  shall  not  be  leaving  for  two  months  or  even  more. 

1  Le  Candidat,  a  comedy  produced  at  the  Vaudeville  in  March, 
iS74- 

69 


Uourguéneff  anft 

I  have  not  yet  seen  L'Oncle  Sam,  but  I  have  seen 
Dumas'  Monsieur  Alphonse.  It  is  a  strongly-con- 
structed thing,  and  on  the  whole  very  remarkable 
and  striking,  though  there  is  a  young  girl  of  eleven 
in  it  who  sickens  one,  and  though  one  comes  across 
phrases  of  this  kind  : — 

"  Oh  human  heart,  deep  as  the  Heavens,  mysterious  as  the  sea  or 
as  death." 

Or  again  : — 

"  Oh  living,  pulsating  being,  created  by  God,  where  thinkest  thou 
that  I  can  find  strength  to  punish  thee  ?  " 

Or  yet  again  : — 

"What  was  God's  goodness  doing  when  it  created  this  man  ?" 

That's  tolerably  idiotic,  don't  you  think  ? 

Everybody  is  well  here.  I  have  just  been  to  call 
on  Mdlle.  Commanville  and  learned  that  she  was 
at  Stockholm. 

Nevertheless  you  must  come  back  to  Paris  ! 

We  shall  meet  soon,  sha'n't  we  ?  I  send  you  my 
love.  Your  old  friend, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


XXVIII. 

48,  Rue  de  Rome, 

Wednesday,  November  19,  1873. 
And  so,  my  dear  friend,  since  yesterday  evening, 
you've  started  a  Military  Dictatorship.     You're  a 

70 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Macmahonnien,  as  they  call  it.  It  has  always 
seemed  to  me  best  to  be  just  a  Frenchman,  but 
perhaps  I'm  wrong. 

The  only  good  side  to  all  this  is  that  nothing  can 
now  prevent  your  publishing  Antoine,  since  they 
have  promised  us  peace  and  the  resumption  of 
business  for  seven  years  into  the  bargain.  I  went 
the  day  before  vesterday  to  Versailles  and  came 
back  quite  disgusted  and  saddened. 

"  The  devil  take  politics  !  "  I  am  very  glad  to 
see  you  are  working  hard,  and  that  your  play  is 
progressing  by  giant  strides.  Sardou's  play  (which 
by  the  way  I've  not  seen)  has  made  more  noise 
than  genuine  success.  I  don't  believe  it  will  run 
for  two  hundred  nights,  like  Rabagas.  Yours1  is 
more  likely  to  do  so. 

I  am  all  right  again — a  little  bothered  by  a 
nervous  cough,  but  one  must  always  have  something. 

I  shall  not  leave  Paris  before  the  end  of  January, 
and  hope  to  see  you  soon.     Everybody  here  is  well. 

My  love  to  you. 

Your  old  friend, 

Iv.    ToURGUÉNEFF. 
XXIX. 

Monday,  9  a.m. 
My  dear  Friend, — When  I  wrote  to  you  that 
there  were  difficulties  connected  with  every  under- 

1  Le  Candidat. 
71 


QoiWQUénctt  anfr 

taking  I  didn't  know  I  was  so  near  the  truth. 
During  the  past  night  the  ankle  of  my  bad  foot 
suddenly  swelled  up,  and  now  I  can  neither  wear 
a  boot  nor  put  my  foot  to  the  ground.  So  now 
Antoine  is  postponed.  It  really  is  bad  luck,  unless 
you  would  care  to  come  here  yourself  with  the 
MS.  Or  else  let's  wait  a  couple  of  days — this  sort 
of  relapse  seldom  lasts  more  than  forty-eight  hours. 
Think  of  me  as  very  wretched  and  disappointed. 
Your  old  friend, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XXX. 

Spasskoïe,  Province  of  Orel, 
Town  of  Mtsensk, 

Wednesday,  lj/S  June,  1874. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  am  writing  from  the 
depths  of  my  lair  where  I  arrived  this  morning  to 
find  your  letter  of  the  1st  of  June.  It  has  taken 
some  time  to  reach  me  as  you  may  see,  but  it  is 
not  its  own  fault  nor  M.  Viardot's.  I  did  not 
mean  to  stay  so  long  at  St.  Petersburg  and 
Moscow,  and  I  gave  an  itinerary,  or  rather  a  time- 
table, which  turned  out  to  be  inaccurate.  The 
tiresome  part  of  it  is  that  you  will  no  longer  be  at 
Croisset  after  the  20th,  i.e.,  after  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, and  that  this  letter  will  have  to  run  after 
72 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

you.  I'm  quite  certain  it  will  catch  you,  but  the 
thought  congeals  my  pen  a  little  all  the  same.  This 
isn't  the  first  time  I've  written  to  you  from  here — 
and  you  know  the  place  ;  it  is  green,  golden, 
extensive,  monotonous,  peaceful,  old-fashioned,  and 
there  is  a  terrible  stillness  about  it — a  slow,  patri- 
archal, all-persuasive  boredom.  If  I  can  work  I 
shall  stay  here  some  weeks,  if  not  I  shall  go  straight 
as  an  arrow  to  Carlsbad,  and  from  there  to  Paris. 
My  stay  in  Russia  has  not  been  without  its  use  ; 
in  any  case,  I  have  found  pretty  much  what  I 
was  looking  for.  It's  true  that  I  am  less,  much 
less,  exacting  than  you  are.  You're  too  much 
so. 

Are  you  pleased  with  Zola's  novel  ?  I've  written 
to  him  and  settled  that  piece  of  business  for  him  for 
the  future.  It  doesn't  amount  to  much,  but  it's 
better  than  nothing.1  He  has  been  greatly  read 
and  translated  in  Russia.  His  Curée  has  just  been 
published. 

Antoine  is  clearly  not  meant  for  the  big  public  ; 
ordinary  readers  recoil  from  it  shocked  and  frightened 
even  in  Russia.  I  did  not  think  my  fellow-country- 
men were  as  prim  as  that.  So  much  the  worse  for 
them,  for,  when  all's  said  and  done,  Antoine  is  a 
book  which  will  live. 

1  It  was  through  Tourguéneff  that  Zola  got  on  to  the  Messager  de 
l'Europe,  a  review  published  at  St.  Petersburg,  as  Paris  correspondent, 
and  wrote  for  it  for  several  years,  starting  from   1874. 

73 


ZEourQiiéneff 

I'll  tell  you  a  lot  of  things  which  will  make  you 
laugh  when  once  I'm  back  again  and  in  your  dear  old 
study  at  Croisset.  There  are  some  very  curious  and 
interesting  things  in  my  cara  patria.  For  the  time 
being,  owing  to  too  much  milk-food  which  I  thought 
I  could  indulge  in,  hoping  that  my  native  air  would 
render  anything  permissible,  I  am  a  martyr  to  the 
most  violent  colic,  so  much  so  that  I  should  imagine 
it  must  show  itself  in  the  very  form  of  the  letters 
I'm  writing.  This  is  neither  curious  nor  interesting. 
The  state  of  my  interior  and  the  political  situation 
are  equally  abominable  at  the  present  moment  ! 
What  do  you  think  about  it  all  ?  Neither  you  nor 
I  care  for  talking  about  it,  but  one  really  can't  help 
sighing  and  exclaiming  over  it. 

I  am  so  looking  forward  to  the  time  when  we 
shall  resume  our  charming  little  dinners  of  dramatic 
authors. 

Meanwhile,  if  this  letter  should  find  you  perched 
on  some  glacier  on  the  Righi,  let  me  beg  of  you  to 
get  really  freshened  up.  As  for  your  charming 
niece  give  her  my  best  regards.  I  see  clearly  that 
I  shall  never  see  her  in  Russia.1 


1  For  the  ending  to  this  letter  see  next  page,  where,  for  the  sake 
of  the  drawing,  it  is  reproduced  in  fac-simile. 


74 


0/\,     aïs- %     ûiX^l'UC^^J^  y 


I 


l  \_/Y~-j^x-A^JL^^  *- 


Uourçjuéneff  anfc 


XXXI. 


Moscow,  Boulevard  Pretchistenski, 
"  Au  Comptoir  des  Apanages," 

Sunday^  July  12,  or  June  30,  1874. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  received  your  Righi 
letter  just  as,  painfully  propped  on  two  crutches, 
I  was  settling  myself  in  a  carriage  which  was 
to  take  me  from  the  country  and  bring  me  here. 
I  haven't  broken  any  limb  as  you  might  think  ; 
but  my  native  air,  that  air  which  does  the  people 
of  Marseilles  so  much  good,  has  brought  on  an 
attack  of  gout — this  time  in  both  feet — which  has 
tied  me  to  my  bed  for  a  fortnight,  and  has  not  yet 
left  me.  To  say  that  this  makes  me  see  life 
through  rose-coloured  or  azure  spectacles  (I'm 
thinking  of  your  dream  under  a  Swiss  sky)  would 
be  to  tell  a  big  lie.  Infirmities,  a  steady,  cold 
disgust  at  things  in  general,  a  painful  stirring  up 
of  useless  memories — there,  my  dear  old  boy,  is 
the  vista  which  opens  before  a  man  who  has 
passed  his  fiftieth  year,  and  hovering  above  and 
beyond  it  all  is  resignation — hideous  resignation. 
This  preparation  for  death — but  enough  of  this  ! 

I'm  going  to  try  and  fly  towards  Karlsbad  as 
quick  as  possible,  not  the  Karlsbad  where  you're 
boring  yourself  to  death,  but  the  Bohemian  Karls- 
bad, where  I  mean  to  spend  five  weeks.  Later 
on  in  the  autumn  we'll  see  what  can  be  done. 
76 


fftis  jfrencb  Circle 

For  the  present  I  can't  make  any  sort  of  plan, 
especially  of  a  pleasant  nature,  for  fear  of  casting 
the  evil  eye  on  myself. 

You  don't  seem  to  me  to  be  amusing  yourself 
on  those  sublime  heights  sung  by  Haller  and 
Rousseau  ?  It  must  be  confessed  that  the  people 
who  live  most  constantly  in  the  presence  of  these 
sublimities — I  mean  the  Swiss — are  undoubtedly 
the  most  oppressively  dull  and  the  least  gifted 
people  I  know.  A  philosopher  would  ask,  Whence 
comes  this  anomaly  ?  Yet  very  likely  it  isn't  an 
anomaly  at  all.  What  would  Bouvard  and  Pécuchet 
think  about  it  ?  I'm  delighted  that  you've  found 
a  setting  or  rather  the  setting  ;  but  the  more  I 
think  about  it  the  more  certain  I  am  that  it  is  a 
subject  which  ought  to  be  treated  with  immense 
rapidity,  after  the  manner  of  Swift  or  Voltaire. 
That's  always  been  my  opinion,  you  know. 

Your  scheme  sounds  to  me  both  charming  and 
amusing.  If  you  dwell  upon  it  too  heavily,  or  wax 
too  learned.  .  .  .  Oh,  well,  after  all,  you're  at 
work  upon  it.  Zola's  Conquête  de  Plassans  has 
been  translated  in  an  abridged  form  in  a  Russian 
newspaper  ;  later  on  it  will  be  translated  in  full. 
He  is  very  popular  in  Russia. 

Suppose  you  take  advantage  of  your  Righi  Glacier 
to  create  something  passionate,  torrid,  glowing. 
There's  an  idea  for  you  !  But,  above  all,  get 
freshened  up  yourself.     Unfortunately  with  certain 

17 


TTourguéneff  anft 

temperaments  boredom  only  stimulates  and  excites 
the  blood.  Mind  you  come  back  to  us  as  pale- and 
unicoloured  as  a  verse  of  Lamartine's.  I  have  good 
news  of  my  Paris  and  Bougival  friends,  and  this  fact 
is  as  balm  to  my  blood. 

A  propos  of  politics  .  .  .  you'll  have  a  good 
soldier  of  somewhat  tarnished  reputation  to  rule 
you  for  seven  years,  and  you'll  see,  he  will  end  by 
governing  quite  alone,  without  the  chambers.  This 
reminds  me  that  when  I  was  in  the  country  (where 
I  have  a  very  good  library)  I  read  in  the  collection 
called  "  A  Selection  from  the  Speeches  made  in  the 
French  Tribune  between  1789  and  1821,"  Robes- 
pierre's oration  on  the  question,  Ought  Louis  XVI. 
to  be  tried  ?  It  struck  me  as  extraordinarily  fine  ! 
In  later  years,  towards  the  end  of  his  career,  Robes- 
pierre became  spoilt  ;  he  gave  himself  up  to  mere 
sentiment  and  high-falutin',  sonorous  phrases,  but 
the  fellow  had  good  stuff  in  him,  with  a  vengeance  ! 

May  we  meet  soon,  my  friend.      It  will  probably 
be  at  Croisset  in  September,  and  let  us  hope  we 
shall  both  be  well. 
My  love  to  you, 

Your  old  friend, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — Are  you  quite  sure  you  are  at  Karlsbad  ? 
You've  twice  written  "Karltbad,"  but  that's  an 
impossible  name.  I  shall  have  to  correct  your 
address  ! 

78 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

XXXII. 

Les  Frênes,  Bougival, 

Monday,  October  n,  1875. 

The  sight  of  your  handwriting,  my  dear  old 
Flaubert,  gave  me  the  greatest  possible  pleasure 
and  your  letter  itself  still  more.  You've  come  out 
of  the  slough  and  are  making — I  was  going  to  say 
literary  plans  !  Anyway,  you  are  amusing  your- 
self by  thinking  that  you  are  going  to  work  ! 
That's  good  hearing,  and  I'm  sure  you'll  give  us 
thirty  pages. 

Les  Frênes,  Wednesday,  October  15,  1875. 

I  had  got  thus  far  with  my  letter,  my  worthy 
friend,  when  something  occurred  to  interrupt  me, 
and  now,  to  my  great  surprise,  I've  just  found  it 
in  my  blotting-book.  I  thought  it  had  gone  long 
ago.  I  write  myself  down  an  ass  and  take  it  up 
again. 

I  say,  then,  that  I  am  very  much  pleased  at  the 
thought  of  those  thirty  pages.  I,  too,  have  just 
promised  my  Russian  publisher  a  tale  of  thirty 
pages(two  folios  of  print)  by  the  26th  of  November — 
at  latest  !  And  I  haven't  a  single  word  in  my  head, 
so  far,  my  long  novel  having  been  put  off  more  or 
less  till  the  Greek  Kalends — even  more  so  than 
B.  and  P.1  My  publisher  keeps  circling  round 
me  like  an  eagle,  screaming  for  something.     So  here 

1  Bouvard  et  Pécuchet. 

79 


TEonrguénett  anft 

I  am,  pledged.  Let's  see  which  will  get  done 
first. 

Alas  !  yes,  my  dear  friend.  We're  both  old. 
There's  no  doubt  about  it.  But  at  least  let's  try 
and  amuse  ourselves  as  old  folk  do.  Apropos  of  this, 
have  you  read  in  the  République  Française  (of  the 
I  Oth  or  nth)  a  feuilleton  called  A  Child's 
Suicide,  and  signed  "  X  "  !  It  impressed  me  a 
good  deal.  Evidently  the  man  who  wrote  it 
belongs  to  your  school.  If  he  is  young  he  has  a 
future  before  him.  Try  and  get  hold  of  the  thing 
and  tell  me  what  you  think  about  it. 

Everybody  here  is  well.  As  for  me  I've  had  a 
violent  attack  of  "  cystitis,"  as  I  believe  it  calls 
itself;  in  other  words,  inflammation  of  the  bladder. 
I've  had  two  wretched  nights  and  spent  three  days 
in  bed.  However,  it's  nearly  gone  now.  These 
are  the  little  mementoes,  the  visiting  cards  as  it 
were,  that  Dame  Death  sends  us  to  prevent  our 
forgetting  her. 

We  shall  be  here  till  the  ist  of  November. 
The  weather  is  mild,  grey,  and  damp,  but  not 
disagreeable.  I  can't  get  into  my  new  house  this 
year,  but  I  go  there  from  time  to  time  to  write 
some  of  my  letters — this  one  for  instance.  There's 
a  good  fire  in  the  chimney  and  yet  I've  got  cold 
shivers  down  my  back. 

There  has  also  been  a  charming  feuilleton  of 
Madame  Sand's  in  the  Temps  (it  was  written  in 
80 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

1829,  when  she  was  twenty-five).  I  expect  you've 
read  it.  Zola  has  written  a  splendid  article  on  the 
Goncourts  in  the  Revue  Russe.  It  will  lead  to  the 
translation  of  their  novels. 

Tell  me  the  probable  date  of  your  return  to 
Croisset.  You  won't  stay  long  at  the  seaside  I 
suppose  ?  And  you'll  come  to  Paris  whatever 
happens,  won't  you  ? 

Your  friends  are  going  to  close  round  you  and 
keep  you  warm. 

Meanwhile  give  my  best  regards  to  Madame 
Commanville  and  my  love  to  yourself. 

Your  faithful  old  friend, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 
XXXIII. 

Spassko'ie,  Province  of  Orel, 
Town  of  Mtsensk, 

Sunday,  "June  18,  1876. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  arrived  at  my  Patmos 
this  morning  and  am  as  dismal  as  an  owl.  Have 
you  noticed  that  it's  at  times  like  these  that  one 
generally  writes  to  one's  best  friends  ?  It  is  320 
Reaumur  in  the  shade  ;  and  owing  to  this,  and  the 
cold  snap  of  90  below  zero,  which  we  experienced  on 
the  21st  of  May,  all  the  greenery  of  the  garden  is 
spotted  with  little  dead  leaves,  which  remind  one 
vaguely  of  little  dead  children,  and  my  old  limes 
give  a  thin,  miserable  shade,  which  is  distressing  to 
81  G 


TEcmrguéneff  anE> 

see.  Add  to  this  that  my  brother,  who  was  to 
have  waited  for  me  in  order  to  settle  some  money 
matters  of  great  importance  to  myself,  started  for 
Carlsbad  five  days  ago  ;  that  I  think  I'm  in  for  the 
gout  (which  seized  me  at  the  same  time  and  place 
two  years  ago)  ;  that  I've  arrived  at  an  almost 
absolute  certainty  that  my  bailiff  is  robbing  me,  and 
that  nevertheless  I  can't  get  rid  of  him — and  you 
have  the  whole  situation  in  a  nutshell  ! 

Madame  Sand's  death  has  been  a  great,  great  grief 
to  me.  I  know  you  went  to  Nohant  for  the  funeral, 
and  I  wanted  to  send  a  telegram  of  condolence  in 
the  name  of  the  Russian  public,  but  was  deterred  by 
a  sort  of  ridiculous  modesty,  fear  of  the  Figaro^  and 
of  self-advertisement — every  kind  of  stupidity  in  fact  ! 

There  was  no  public  upon  which  Madame  Sand 
had  more  influence  than  the  Russian  public,  and  of 
course  I  ought  to  have  said  so  !  Moreover,  I  had 
the  right  to  say  it — but  there  !  Poor  dear  Madame 
Sand  !  She  was  very  fond  of  us  both — of  you 
especially,  as  was  natural.  What  a  heart  of  gold 
she  had  !  What  an  entire  absence  there  was  in 
her  of  anything  small,  mean,  or  false.  What  a 
good  fellow  she  was,  and  what  a  delightful  woman  ! 
And  now  all  that  she  was  is  buried  in  that  horrible, 
dull,  speechless,  insatiable,  senseless  pit,  which 
is  unconscious  even  of  what  it  has  swallowed  up. 
Ah,  well  !  there's  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  live 
on  and  try  to  keep  our  heads  above  water. 
82 


HMs  jfrencb  Circle 

I  am  addressing  this  to  Croisset — I  suppose 
you're  there.  Have  you  begun  work  again  ?  If  I 
do  nothing  here  it  will  mean  that  all  is  at  an  end  ; 
there  is  a  silence  here  of  which  it's  quite  impossible 
to  give  you  any  idea — not  a  single  neighbour  in  a 
radius  of  twenty  kilomètres,  and  everything  droop- 
ing with  inertia  !  The  house  is  rather  wretched, 
but  not  too  hot,  and  the  furniture  is  good.  Among 
other  things  there  are  an  excellent  writing-table  and 
a  big  cane  arm-chair.  Ah  !  but  there's  also  a 
dangerous  sofa — so  dangerous  that  no  sooner  does 
one  find  oneself  upon  it  than  one  falls  asleep.  I 
mean  to  shun  it.  I  shall  begin  by  finishing  St. 
y u  lien. 

Standing  upright  in  a  corner  of  the  room  there  is 
an  old  Byzantine  eikon,  quite  black,  and  framed  in 
silver — only  an  immense  sombre,  rigid  face  ;  it 
bores  me  a  little,  but  I  can't  have  it  taken  away 
because  my  servant  would  think  me  a  heathen,  and 
that's  no  joke  here. 

Write  me  a  few  words  of  rather  a  more  cheerful 
kind  than  these  of  mine.     My  love  to  you. 
Your  old  friend, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — Do  you  know  that  that  Circassian  fellow, 
Hassan,  who  kills  ministers  by  the  brace  as  if  they 
were  partridges,  inspires  me  with  a  certain  respect  ? 

P.P.S. — My  best  regards  to  your  niece  and  to 
her  husband. 

83 


TTourauéneff  anfc 


XXXIV. 


Spasskoïé,  Province  of  Orel, 
Town  of  Mtsensk. 

Tuesday ',  "June  i^—fuly  4,  1876. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — I'm  writing  to  you  from 
here  to  Croisset — from  one  Patmos  to  another. 
Your  letter  reached  me  yesterday,  and,  as  you  see, 
I  have  not  delayed  in  answering  it. 

Yes,  Madame  Sand's  was  a  full  life,  and  yet  in 
speaking  of  her  you  call  her  "  poor  Madame  Sand." 
It's  an  appropriate  adjective  for  the  dead,  for  after 
all  they  are  much  to  be  pitied.  Death  is  a  hideous 
thing.  Yes,  I  remember  little  Aurore's  eyes  ; 
they  are  astonishing  in  their  depth  and  goodness, 
and  you're  quite  right  in  thinking  them  like  her 
grandmother's  ;  they're  almost  too  good  for  a 
child's  eyes.  Zola,  it  seems,  has  written  a  long 
article  on  Madame  Sand  in  the  Revue  Russe.  The 
article  is  very  finely  written,  but  a  little  harsh,  they 
say.  Zola  could  not  form  a  complete  judgment  of 
Madame  Sand  :  there  was  too  great  a  gulf  between 
them. 

I  can  see  you  making  fierce  eyes  at  M.  A.     In 

a  special    kind  of  mud   is   required    for    the 

cultivation  of  such  fungi. 

So  you're  working  at  Croisset.     Well,  now  I'm 
going  to  astonish  you  !      Never  in   my  life  have  I 
worked  as  I've  been  working:  here.     I  spend  sleep- 
84 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

less  nights,  bent  double  over  my  writing-table.  I'm 
once  more  filled  with  the  illusion  that  I  can  say,  not 
exactly  something  different  from  what  has  ever  been 
said  before — that  I  don't  care  about — but  that  I  can 
say  it  differently.  And  note  that,  besides  this,  I'm 
overwhelmed  with  miscellaneous  work — with  money 
affairs,  "administrative  and  farming  business,"  and 
Heaven  knows  what  !  (On  this  head  I  may  say 
that  things  aren't  quite  as  bad  as  I  thought  at  first, 
and,  parenthetically,  I  am  delighted  to  hear  that 
there  is  a  little  daylight  to  be  seen  in  your  nephew's 
affairs.)  But  St.  Julien  is  suffering  from  this  excess 
of  activity. 

My  abominable  old  novel l  has  seized  hold  of  me 
in  an  overwhelming  fashion.  Nevertheless,  you 
may  be  quite  easy  in  your  mind  ;  the  translation 
is  already  promised  for  the  October  number  of  the 
Messager  de  l'Europe.  It  will  appear  then,  or  I 
shall  die  in  the  attempt  ! 

I've  not  read  Fromentin's  articles,  nor  have  I 
read  Renan's  book.  I  can't  read  anything  just 
now,  except  the  newspaper  I  get  here,  which  tells 
me  about  Eastern  affairs  and  sets  me  pondering.  I 
believe  it's  the  beginning  of  the  end  ;  but  oh,  what 
decapitated  heads,  what  outraged  and  mutilated 
women,  girls,  and  children  we  shall  see  between 
that  end  and  now  !  I  believe  also  that  we  (I 
mean  Russia)  can't  avoid  war. 

1   Terres  Vierges. 
85 


ZEourfliiéneff  anft 

You  want  to  know  what  my  abode  looks 
like.  It  is  a  wooden  house,  very  old,  faced  with 
beams,  and  distempered  a  pale  lilac.  There  is  a 
verandah  in  front,  covered  with  creeping  ivy  ;  the 
two  roofs  are  made  of  iron  and  painted  green.  This 
little  house  is  all  that  remains  of  a  vast  horseshoe- 
shaped  building  which  was  burnt  down  in  1870. 

Yesterday  evening,  with  your  letter  in  my  pocket, 
I  sat  myself  down  on  my  verandah  steps  facing 
about  sixty  peasant  women,  almost  all  dressed  in 
red  and  very  ugly  (with  one  exception,  in  the  shape 
of  a  newly-married  girl  of  sixteen,  who  had  just  had 
fever,  and  was  astonishingly  like  the  Sistine  Madonna 
at  Dresden).  They  danced  like  marmosettes,  or 
rather  like  bears,  and  sang  with  very  harsh  and 
hard  but  true  voices.  It  was  a  little  fête  they  had 
asked  me  to  get  up,  and  a  very  simple  matter  it 
was — two  buckets  of  brandy,  some  cakes  and  some 
nuts,  and  there  you  are  !  They  kept  preening  them- 
selves for  my  benefit,  and  I  watched  them  doing  it, 
and  felt  horribly  sad.  The  little  Sistine  Madonna 
is  called  Mary,  as  is  fitting. 

Enough  of  this.  I  will  write  to  you  again  before 
leaving  here.  Meanwhile  I  send  you  my  best  love. 
Your  old  friend, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — I  find  that  in  point  of  colouring  the  whole 
landscape  is  pale  here — sky,  vegetation,  soil — rather 
a  warm,  golden  paleness.    It  would  be  merely  pretty 
86 


tbts  jfrencb  Circle 

but  for  its  big  outlines  and  great  level  spaces,  which 
lend  it  grandeur. 

XXXV. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Tuesday,  August  8,  1876. 

N.B. — I'm  writing  on  this  dandified  paper  by 
accident. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  arrived  here  two  days 
ago,  after  a  breakneck  journey  across  Russia  and 
Germany,  and  your  letter  gave  me  very  great 
pleasure.  So  you  are  well  and  at  work  ?  I,  too, 
am  well  and  I  have  been  working,  for,  incredible  as 
it  may  sound,  I've  finished  my  great  brute  of  a 
novel,  and  now  I  can  set  to  work  again,  for  it  must 
be  copied  out  and  ready  in  two  months'  time,  which 
will  be  by  no  means  an  easy  task,  for  you  know 
what  copying  means.  There  are  some  pages  of 
which  not  one  original  line  remains. 

Like  Ulysses,  I've  seen  many  things  and  people, 
and  have  returned  to  find  all  my  circle  well.  I 
have  kicked  out  a  bailiff  who  had  robbed  me  to  the 
tune  of  something  like  1 30,000  francs— a  fairly  large 
slice  of  my  fortune.  Why  was  I  such  a  fool  ?  I 
let  myself  drift  from  idleness  and  blind  confidence, 
though  I  knew  quite  well,  when  1  looked  at  his 
smug,  hairy  face,  that  it  belonged  to  a  rogue.  Well, 
so  much  the  worse  for  me,  and  may  he  digest  my 
money  ! 

87 


Uourguéneff  anft 

I  fully  intend  to  tear  myself  from  my  copying 
for  two  or  three  days  (about  the  25th  of  this  month), 
and  go  to  Croisset  to  hear  you  read  Le  Perroquet. 
When  I'm  abreast  of  my  copying  I  shall  set  to  work 
to  finish  the  translation  of  St.  Julien,  for  it  must 
come  out  in  Russia  on  the  1st  of  November. 

I've  just  read  that  gentleman's  article  on  Renan. 
It's  vile  ;  all  that  "  Republic  of  Letters  "  reeks  of 
affectation  and  of  something  indefinably  false  and 
degraded. 

Zola  has  written  to  me.  He  is  well  and  is 
coming  back  to  Paris  towards  the  end  of  Septem- 
ber. 

I'm  pleased  with  my  chalet,  and  shall  be  more  so 
when  it  has  lost  its  smell  of  new  furniture.  The 
weather  is  really  too  lovely  ;  the  green  of  the  trees 
before  my  window  is  full  of  soft,  golden  splendour. 
It's  really  exceedingly  pretty. 

When  you  write  to  your  niece  give  her  a  thou- 
sand messages  from  me,  and  au  revoir  in  a  little 
more  than  a  fornight. 

Your  old  friend, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 
XXXVI. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 

Wednesday,  August  29,  1876. 
My   dear  Friend,  —  I  didn't  answer  you  at 
once,  because  I  wanted  to  be  able  to  fix  the  day  of 
88 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

my  arrival  at  Croisset,  and  it  wasn't  easy  ;  but  now 
I'm  in  receipt  of  your  telegram  and  am  forced  to 
tell  you  that  I  cant  come  before  September  10, 
but  that  I'll  come  then  for  certain. 

I'm  delighted  that  you've  finished  your  work. 
If  I  find  that  it  will  be  best  for  St.  Julien  to  appear 
in  a  Russian  review  to  begin  with,  I'll  set  to  work 
upon  it,  although  the  other  is  nearly  finished.  You 
know  we've  still  plenty  of  time  before  the  ist  of 
November. 

I'm  up  to  my  eyes  in  copying,  and  it's  work  that 
bores  me. 

However,  I'm  very  well,  though  I  feel  enveloped 
in  a  kind  of  old-age  fog  which  is  very  disagreeable. 

On  the  ioth  then,  my  friend,  without  fail. 

My  love  to  you, 

Yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUÉNEFF. 


XXXVII. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 

Sunday,  September  23,  1876. 
My  fierce  old  Boy, — Here  I  am  back  again 
without  any  misadventures.     I  had  no  time  to  see 
Magny,  but  I  saw  Pelle.     I  submitted  to  him  the 
question  in  dispute.     He  replied  as  follows  : — 

"  It  is  done,  it  is  even  often  done,  but  it's  against 
the  rules  of  good  cooking." 
89 


TEourguéneff  anft 

The  result  of  this  is  that  I  owe  you  six  bottles 
of  champagne  ;  but  if  I  hav'n't  won  the  material 
victory  I  have  the  moral  ! 

I  have  set  to  work  at  my  copying  again.  This 
evening  I  shall  read  over  again,  for  the  second  time, 
Le  Cœur  Simple.     Kindest  regards  to  all  at  Croisset. 

I  hope  your  niece  will  soon  be  up  and  about  again, 
and  I  send  you  my  love,  and  am 

He  who  eats  hot  roast  chicken  without  mustard, 

I.  T. 

XXXVIII. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 
(Seine-et-Oise), 

Wednesday,  October  25,  1876. 
I  wrote  to  you  on  a  Wednesday  and  your  letter 
is  dated  Wednesday  too,  but  how  many  weeks  have 
passed  in  between  ?  Two,  three,  a  hundred,  a  thou- 
sand ?  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  What  have  I  been 
doing  all  this  time  ?  Nothing,  and  I  know  nothing 
whatever  about  it.  The  days  have  slipped  by  like 
water  or  sand.  And  you  ?  Have  you  been  work- 
ing ?  How  is  Madame  Commanville  ?  She  has 
been  up  a  long  time,  I  hope.  When  are  you 
coming  to  Paris  ?  We  shall  be  here  for  ten  days 
longer.  The  sky  has  been  grey  all  the  time.  I 
hav'n't  read  anything.  Oh,  yes,  I  have  !  I've  read 
the  second  canto  of  Lord  Byron's  Don  Juan,  and  it 
has  been  a  ray  of  light  amid  all  this  greyness. 
90 


TEns  jfrencb  Circle 

I  have  had  two  or  three  delightful  musical  even- 
ings. One  night  I  had  an  attack  of  nephritic 
colic.     I  thought  I  was  going  to  die  like  a  dog. 

That's  all. 

Write  me  just  two  lines,  and  say  a  thousand  kind 
things  to  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  Commanville 
for  me. 

I  feel  utterly  woolly,  but  that  doesn't  prevent  me 
from  sending  you  my  best  love. 

Yours, 

Iv.  Tourg. 

xxxix. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Wednesday,  November  8,  1876. 

My  dear  Friend, — I'm  in  all  the  agonies  of 
packing  up.  We're  going  to  Paris  the  day  after 
to-morrow.  Once,  established  there  I'll  write  to 
you  at  greater  length. 

The  Messager  de  V Europe  has  informed  me  that 
it  could  not  allow  St.  "Julien  to  be  published  with 
my  name,  before  my  novels,  as  a  promise  has  been 
made  to  publish  nothing  of  mine  or  bearing  my 
signature,  before  that.  But  as  the  novel  is  to 
appear  in  the  January  number,  St.  Julien  will 
appear  in  February,  before  its  publication  in  France. 
I  think  I  have  found  a  good  translator  for  Le  Cœur 
Simple. 

I  am  delighted  to  hear  that  Madame  Comman- 
91 


Uomrgueneff  anft 

ville  is  well  again.     Say  every  sort  of  kind  thing  to 
her  for  me. 

As  for  the  gigantic  difficulties  of  Hérodiade^  I 
quite  believe  in  them,  but  I'm  sure  you'll  end  by 
overcoming  them. 

I  hav'n't  read  Zola's  feuilletons,  but  I've  read 
the  first  part  of  U  Assommoir.  Heavens,  heavens  ! 
we'll  talk  it  over.  I'm  going  to  write  to  you  in 
two  or  three  days,  as  soon  as  I'm  settled  in  Paris. 
My  nephritic  colic  was  only  an  accident — a  very 
disagreeable  one,  by  the  way — and  since  then  I 
hav'n't  done  badly.  We  shall  meet  soon.  My 
love  to  you. 

Yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 
XL. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday^  December  2/9,  1876. 
My  dear  old  Boy, — It's  just  a  week  ago  since 
I  took  up  this  sheet  of  paper  to  write  to  you,  and  I 
hav'n't  written  one  word.  I'm  in  an  odious  state  of 
mind  ;  I  feel  old,  grey,  off-colour,  useless,  and  stupid. 
I've  had  an  attack  of  gout,  but  even  that  came  to 
nothing  !  I  am  correcting  the  proofs  of  my  novel  * 
which  they  are  sending  me  from  St.  Petersburg, 
and  I  find  it  flat  and  insignificant.  I  see  scarcely 
anybody.    It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  staying  away 

1  Terres  Vierges,  which  was  published  in  Russia  the  same  year. 
92 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

from  Paris  far  too  long  ;  if  I  could  have  talked 
things  over  with  you  everything  would  have  settled 
itself,  but  I  should  have  to  write  at  too  great  length. 
In  the  first  place  it  is  tiring,  and  in  the  second,  one 
has  to  say  everything  on  paper,  even  the  things 
which  are  understood  of  themselves. 

We  have  had  a  dinner  with  Zola  and  Goncourt. 
Daudet  couldn't  come.  We  missed  you.  M. 
Pelle  gave  us  an  abominable  dinner.  We  really 
mustn't  go  there  any  more.  Look  here — when  are 
we  going  to  see  you  in  Paris  again  ?  Is  the  work 
getting  on  ?      How  are  you  in  health  ? 

Goncourt  read  us  a  fragment  of  his  novel J  in 
a  voice  broken  with  emotion.  It  seemed  strange  to 
me  to  see  a  grey-haired  man  stirred  by  that  kind  of 
feeling.  What  he  read  seemed  to  me  good,  but 
a  little  too  superficial.  I've  just  dipped  into 
Udssommoir.  I'm  not  enchanted  with  it.  This 
is  strictly  between  ourselves.  There's  certainly 
a  great  deal  of  talent  in  it,  but  it's  heavy  reading 
and  leaves  too  bad  a  taste  in  the  mouth. 

Really,  when  are  you  coming  back  ?  Do  let  me 
know — without  delay — don't  follow  my  example  ! 
And  what  do  you  think  of  the  beautiful  mess  in 
which  we're  wallowing  here  ?  There  will  most 
certainly  be  war,  "  whatever  folk  may  say." 

I  hope  to  have  an  income  of  10,000  roubles  for 
the  whole  year  1877.    In  good  times  this  is  equiva- 

1  La  Fille  Elise. 

93 


TEourguéneff  anft 

lent  to  35,000  francs  ;  in  middling  times  to  30,000  ; 
in  bad  times  to  25,000  ;  and  one  must  count  on 
25,000 — not  more.  As  I  have  more  than  10,000 
francs'  worth  of  charges  to  meet  and  as  much  in 
the  way  of  debts,  there  won't  be  a  fat  lot  left. 
Patience  ! 

Give  my  best  regards  to  your  niece  and  her 
husband.  I  am  a  sleepy  old  pear,  a  worn-out 
rag,  but  I'm  very  fond  of  you  and  send  you  my 
best  love.     Au  revoir  ! 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XLI. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday,  December  19,  1876. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — I'm  just  back  after  a 
virtuous  domestic  tour  which  has  taken  me  three 
days,  and  in  the  course  of  which  I've  been  con- 
siderably bored.  And  now  here  I  am  answering 
your  letter.  First  of  all  let  us  thresh  out  the 
question  of  the  three  stories. 

The  St.  "Julien  is  translated,  is  in  the  publishers' 
hands,  and  will  be  paid  for  at  my  ordinary  rate — 
that's  to  say  it  will  bring  us  in  300  roubles  (the 
rouble  fluctuates  between  2  francs  85,  and  3  francs 
50)  per  printed  folio  (16  pages).  But  here  is  the 
hitch.  I  was  obliged  to  make  a  formal  promise  to 
my  publisher  and  the  public  (in  a  note  which  I 
was  fool  enough  to  allow  to  be  published)  to  publish 
9+ 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

nothing  with  my  name  before  my  old  brute  of 
a  novel.  I  have  finished  the  novel  and  sent  it  off  to 
St.  Petersburg,  and  it's  being  printed  at  the  present 
moment.  Only,  my  snake  of  a  publisher,  instead 
of  printing  it  as  a  whole  (which  he  expressly 
promised  me  he  would  do),  has  cut  it  in  two, 
so  that  it  will  appear  in  the  two  numbers  of  the 
1/13  January  and  1/13  February,  and  he  has  so  far 
got  round  me,  sleepy  old  pear  that  I  am,  that 
I've  consented  to  this  mutilation,  which  puts  the 
unlucky  Julien  off  until  1/13  March.  Those 
other  two  stories  must  therefore  be  published.  In 
any  case  Le  Cœur  Simple  ought  not  to  appear  quite 
by  itself.  This  is  not  impossible  from  what  you 
tell  me.  I've  given  Le  Cœur  Simple  to  a  young 
Russian  literary  lady,  who  knows  the  language 
very  well.  She  is  here  in  Paris,  and  if  she  acquits 
herself  of  the  business  with  credit,  I  shall  hand  over 
the  Hcrodiade  to  her.  Of  course  I  shall  overhaul 
the  translation  with  the  greatest  possible  care. 
I  shall  copy  it  out  again  if  necessary  since  it 
must  have  my  name  attached  to  it.  Otherwise 
people  would  say,  "  As  he  translated  the  first 
story,  why  doesn't  he  translate  the  others  ?  Aren't 
they  so  good  ?  "  This  is  the  only  way  we  can 
secure  a  satisfactory  payment.1     But  here's  another 

1  As  we  said  in  the  preface,  Flaubert's  two  stories,  St.  Julien  and 
Hirodiade,  came  out  over  TourguénefFs  signature  as  translator,  and 
were  included  in  the  Russian  edition  of  TourguénefFs  Complete 
Works. 

95 


TTourguéneff  anfr 

difficulty  !  I  am  going  to  St.  Petersburg  (this  is 
between  ourselves)  on  the  15th  of  February,  and 
shall  be  there  a  month.  Probably  you  won't  be 
ready  between  now  and  then  (15th  February), 
or  if  you  are  I  shall  only  be  able  to  carry  off 
the  original  without  having  time  to  make  a  proper 
translation.  Very  well,  so  be  it  then.  I  shall  have 
to  find  some  one  in  St.  Petersburg,  which  is  not  an 
impossibility. 

The  outcome  of  all  which  is — try  and  finish 
Hérodiade  in  the  first  days  of  February,  and  then 
we'll  see  what  can  be  done. 

As  for  the  other  points  mentioned  in  your  letter 
I'll  answer  them  categorically,  for  I  don't  want  to 
go  over  the  page. 

1.  I  beg  you  urgently  to  hasten  your  return, 
because  I  miss  you  to  a  singular  degree. 

2.  We  are  of  the  same  opinion  about  Zola. 
Our  dinner  at  the  Opera-Comique  restaurant  came 
off  on  Friday.     Pelle  is  a  pig. 

3.  As  to  Renan.  His  article  is  very  interesting 
from  a  personal  point  of  view,  but  what  a  lack  of 
colour  and  life  it  shows  !  I  see  nothing,  neither 
Brittany,  nor  all  the  saints,  nor  his  mother,  nor 
those  little  girls  of  his  who  are  the  cause  of  his  first 
love  coming  to  grief,  nor  himself  !  and  why  on 
earth  does  he  say  that  God  gave  him  a  daughter  ? l 

1  The  article  by  Renan  of  which  Tourguéneff  speaks  is  a  chapter 
of  his  Souvenirs  d'Enfance  which  appeared  in  the  Revue  des  Deux 
Mondes,  on  the  ist  of  December,  1876.  These  Souvenirs  were 
collected  in  a  volume  several  years  later. 

96 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

4.  I  haven't  read  M.  Mont,  .  .  .  because  he 
disgusts  me.  There  will  probably  be  no  war.  You 
are  indirectly  concerned  in  the  matter,  because  it 
has  an  abominable  effect  on  the  value  of  the  rouble. 
The  change  of  ministry  leaves  me  quite  cold. 
Germiny  is  colossal.  There's  a  thing  calculated  to 
make  one  believe  in  a  personal,  ironical,  jeering 
God,  if  you  like  !  I  have  had  a  visit  from  Madame 
Commanville.  I  was  both  charmed  and  flattered 
thereby.  I  thought  her  looking  splendidly  well, 
and  now  much  love  to  you, 

Yours, 

I.  T. 

XLII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

January  2,  1877. 
My  dear  Friend, — On  the  next  page  you'll 
find  a  piece  of  poetry  l   which  a  schoolmaster  dic- 

1  Here  is  the  piece  of  poetry  referred  to  in  this  letter  : — 

CHERS  PARENTS. 

Un  nouvel  an  commence  sa  carrière, 

Et  vous  savez  les  vœux  que  mon  cœur  peut  former. 

Il  en  est  un  surtout  que  l'amour  nous  suggère  : 

C'est  de  vous  voir  toujours  m'aimer 

Autant  que  je  cherche  à  vous  plaire  ! 

Jaloux  du  bonheur  des  amants 

Le  temps  s'amuse  à  détruire  leur  chaîne, 

Ce  nœud,  qui  leur  futcher,  les  fatigue  et  les  gêne. 

Le  vent  emporte  leurs  serments. 

Et  pour  l'amante  infortunée 

Le  plus  souvent  la  bonne  année 

Est  celle  qui  vient  de  finir  ! 

97  h 


TEourguéneff  anft 

tated  to  his  class  (on  the  occasion  of  the  New 
Year)  and  which  our  concierge's  son,  a  boy  of 
eight  years  old,  has  just  presented  to  his  parents. 
His  mother  (who  by  the  way  doesn't  know  how  to 
read)  came  to  show  this  beautiful  production  to 
Madame  Viardot.  She  was  proud  of  it,  and  her 
eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  for  my  part  I  hastened 
to  copy  out  this  priceless  masterpiece  for  you. 
Sound,  if  you  can,  the  depths  of  this  usher's  soul, 
drowned  in  a  sea  of  rhetoric  ! 

I  have  an  attack  of  gout  in  my  knee  ;  I  hope  it 
will  not  be  serious,  but  for  the  time  being  I  can't 
move. 

What  about  you  ?  are  you  still  working  hard  ? 

Is  your  health  good  ? 

Much  love  to  you, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XLIII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 
Wednesday  Evening,  ^January  24,  1877. 
My    dear    old   Boy, — I  am   sending  you  two 
numbers  of  the  Temps  which  contain  a  stupid  little 


Mais  la  tendresse  filiale 

N'est  point  sujette  au  repentir  ; 

Toujours  vive,  toujours  égale, 

Le  temps  ne  peut  arrêter  ses  progrès 

Semblable  aux  feux  de  la  Vestale, 

Son  ardeur  ne  s'éteint  jamais. 

98 


1fMs  jfrencb  Circle 

trifle  of  mine.  Read  it  when  you  have  nothing 
better  to  do. 

The  first  part  of  my  novel  which  has  appeared 
in  Russia  seems  to  have  pleased  my  friends  very 
much,  and  the  public  very  little.  The  newspapers 
say  I  am  used  up,  and  worry  me  to  death  about  my 
own  past  works  (as  they  did  you  about  Madame 
Bovary).  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  are  working  hard, 
and  Madame  Commanville,  whom  I  have  seen  and 
thought  in  very  good  health  and  spirits,  told  me 
you  were  coming  back  sooner  than  you  had  ex- 
pected. Hurrah  !  I  have  missed  you.  As  for 
me,  I  shall  not  be  leaving  till  the  first  days  of 
March.  Zola  has  sent  me  his  Assommoir.  It's  a 
fat  volume.     I  shall  set  to  work  on  it  soon. 

Poor  Maupassant  is  losing  all  his  hair  !  He  came 
to  see  me.  I  gather  it's  owing  to  some  gastric 
trouble,  from  what  he  says.  He  is  still  a  dear 
fellow,  but  exceedingly  ugly  just  at  present.  I  am 
still  convinced,  in  spite  of  everything,  that  there 
will  be  war  next  spring. 

And  now  best  love  and  au  revoir. 

Iv.   TOURGUÉNEFF. 


99 


ITourguéneff  anfc 


XLIV. 


Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

15,  Rue  de  Mesmer, 

Tuesday ',  July  24,  1 877. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — I  didn't  answer  you  at 
once  because  I  had  a  faint  hope  of  coming  to 
Croisset  to  bring  you  your  dressing-gown  in  person, 
but  this  hope  has  been  dispelled  for  the  time  being, 
so  I  am  writing  to  you  and  am  sending  your 
dressing-gown  by  train.1 

My  foot  is  better,  but  I  couldn't  walk  much  yet 
if  I  tried.  I  think  I  shall  end  by  trying  the  new 
drug  that  the  papers  are  praising  so  much,  and  that 
has  a  name  which  begins  with  sal  and  ends  with 
ate.  My  fiendish  gout  is  taking  a  semi-chronic, 
sub-acute  form  which  worries  me.  It's  a  pity  B. 
and  P.  have  given  up  practising,  or  I  should  have 
consulted  them. 

I  did  about  a  quarter  of  what  I  meant  to  do  in 
Russia,  which  is  something  after  all  ;  of  course,  I 
didn't  do  the  chief  thing  I  meant  to  do.  I  didn't 
see  my  brother.     All  that  lies  in  shadow. 

I  do  wish  this  war  would  come  to  an  end,  so  that 
the  value  of  the  Russian  rouble  might,  go  up  again. 


1  A  present  of  Tourguéneff's  to  Flaubert,  consisting  of  a  silk 
dressing-gown,  embroidered  in  gold  and  silk  threads  by  the  Tartar 
women  in  the  Crimea. 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

The  present  situation  impoverishes  me  terribly. 
You  are  working,  that's  all  right  ;  and  how  are 
your  affairs  going  ? — that  business  which  if  you 
remember  promised  so  well  ? 

My  literary  activity  is  for  the  present  at  the  very 
lowest  ebb. 

I  saw  Zola's  little  story  in  the  Écho  Universel. 
The  beginning  is  particularly  remarkable. 

My  best  regards  to  all. 

Yours  ever  affectionately, 

I.  T. 


XLV. 

Caen,  Grand  Hôtel  de  la  Place  Royale, 

Friday  Evening,  August  17,  1877. 
My  dear  Friend, — "  Caen  ?  Why  Caen  ?  " 
you  will  say,  my  dear  old  boy,  "What  on  earth 
does  Caen  mean  ?  "  Ah  !  that's  just  it  !  The 
ladies  of  the  Viardot  family  have  got  to  spend  a 
fortnight  by  the  seaside,  either  at  Luc  or  at  St. 
Aubin,  and  they  have  sent  me  on  in  front  to  find 
a  place  for  them.  I  took  your  letter  with  me, 
and  I  hasten  to  tell  you  that  your  visit  suits  me 
down  to  the  ground,  for  I  shall  be  back  at  Bougival 
by  Tuesday,  and  I  shall  expect  a  letter  from  you  at 
Les  Frênes  to  tell  me  when  I  am  to  meet  you  in 
Paris  at  the  Faubourg  St.  Honoré.  We  shall  have 
so  much  to  talk  about  that  we  shall  make  the  very 
101 


XEourpuéneff  anft 

walls  shake  !     Well,  then,  from  Tuesday  onwards 
I  shall  expect  a  line  from  you. 
Much  love.  Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XLVI. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Thursday,  August  30,  1877. 
My  dear  Friend,  —When  you  talk  to  me  you 
labour  under  the  delusion  that  you  are  addressing  a 
human  being.  Undeceive  yourself — I  am  nothing 
but  an  old  receptacle  for  the  gout,  all  of  which 
means  that  it  fastened  on  me  with  renewed  violence 
as  far  back  as  the  month  of  June,  when  you  and  I 
lunched  together,  and  that  ever  since  then  I  have 
been  tied  by  the  leg.  In  the  course  of  last  night 
it  crept  up  from  my  heel  to  my  knee,  and  probably 
it's  not  at  the  end  of  its  wanderings  yet.  So,  it 
you  want  to  see  me,  you  must  do  like  Mahomet — 
go  to  the  mountain.  I  send  you  my  love,  and  wish 
you  all  kinds  of  good  things — and  no  gout  ! 
Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XLVII. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Saturday,  8  a.m.,  September  I,  1877. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  am  writing  to  stop  you 
from  going  to  the  mountain,  if  you  were  thinking 

102 


1bfe  ffrencb  Circle 

of  so  doing.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  drag 
myself  on  crutches  as  far  as  Paris  to  consult  Dr. 
See.  I  ought  to  have  put  it  off  till  Wednesday,  as 
he  spends  Sundays  and  Mondays  at  Trouville,  and 
doesn't  receive  on  Tuesdays.  I  don't  know  when 
he'll  let  me  out  of  his  clutches,  and  I  can't  possibly 
climb  your  five  storeys.  So  our  meeting,  our  dinner, 
and  everything  else,  have  all  come  to  grief.  After 
forty  there  is  only  one  word  which  sums  up  the 
basis  of  existence — renunciation.  I  send  you  my 
love,  and  wish  you  good  health,  activity,  &c,  &c. 

Your  old  friend, 
I.  T. 

XLVIII. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 

Friday,  October  5. 

My  dear  Friend, — Only  one  line  to  tell  you 
not  to  be  surprised  at  my  silence,  for  several  reasons 
which  I  will  tell  you  when  we  meet.  All  this  time 
I  have  been  in  a  slough  of  despond  and  unfit  for 
human  intercourse. 

I'll  come  and  see  you  as  soon  as  it's  possible  to  do 
so  ;  I'll  let  you  know  beforehand. 

I  read  nothing,  I  do  nothing,  and  meantime  I  am 
perfectly  well,  thanks  to  salicylate. 

Mademoiselle  's x  wedding  has  been  put  off 

for  a  short  time. 

1  The  name  has  been  omitted  by  special  request  of  the  people 
concerned. 

103 


Work  hard  enough  for  the  two  of  us.  Best 
love.  Your  faithful  friend, 

I.T. 

XLIX. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday ,  November  8,  1877. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — I  really  must  write  to  you 
if  it's  only  to  find  out  how  long  you  think  of  staying 
at  Croisset,  for  I  mean  to  go  and  see  you  there 
whatever  happens.  We  left  the  country  ten  days 
ago,  and  are  definitely  settled  here. 

I  am  in  very  good  health,  thanks  to  salicylate  of 
soda,  which  seems  to  have  put  an  end  to  my  gout. 

My  chief  distress  has  been  the  breaking  off  of 

's  engagement  to  a  young  fellow  whom  I  was 

looking  after  and  was  very  fond  of.  It  all  happened 
under  my  very  eyes.  There  were  certain  psycho- 
logical curiosities  connected  with  it  which  I  should 
like  to  have  come  across  elsewhere. 

We  will  talk  of  all  this  and  of  other  things  too. 
I  have  seen  and  am  seeing,  no  one.  Zola  must  be 
back  ;  I  mean  to  go  and  look  him  up  some  day 
soon.  I  hope  you  are  well  and  are  working  hard. 
Chamerot *  told  me  your  three  stories  were  being 
reprinted.     All  the  better. 

Best  love.  Your  old  friend, 

Iv.  Tourg. 

1  The  husband  of  Madame  Viardot's  eldest  daughter,  and  the 
owner  of  large  printing  works. 

IO4 


Ibis  ffvencft  Circle 

P. S. — -Politics  are  in  a  pretty  state,  aren't  they  ? 
I  always  thought  this  ministry  would  last,  and  that 
a  wooden  figurehead  placed  in  a  favourable  position 
would  prove  stronger  than  a  whole  people. 


L. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday,  December  5,  1877. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — I  am  still  in  a  horizontal 
position.  I've  had  a  relapse  since  I  last  wrote.  I 
am  in  no  pain,  but  I  begin  to  wonder  how  people 
use  their  legs  ;  folk  who  walk  with  crutches  even 
seem  to  me  giants  and  heroes.  I  believe  I  am 
in  this  state  so  as  to  feel  in  harmony  with  poor 
France  who,  like  myself,  can  neither  move  hand  or 
foot.  What  a  situation,  my  dear  friend  !  Such  a 
state  of  things  has  never  been  seen  before.  A  steam 
engine  going  at  full  steam  towards  the  precipice, 
and  the  engineer  peacefully  scratching  his  head  or 
folding  his  arms  !  And  the  lies,  the  unblushing 
lies,  which  exude  from  everywhere  like  the  sap 
from  a  frozen  log  thrown  on  the  fire  !  I  repeat, 
such  a  state  of  things  has  never  been  seen. 

Madame  Commanville  has  been  good  and  kind 
enough  to  come  and  see  the  invalid.  I  thought 
she  looked  splendidlv  well — glowing  with  health, 
in  fact.  I  have  also  seen  Zola,  who  has  definitely 
settled  to  write  a  play  for  Sarah  Bernhardt. 
105 


TEourguéneff  anft 

I  have  just  finished  Le  Nabab.  It's  a  book  in 
which  there  are  many  things  far  above  Daudet's 
ordinary  level,  and  others  far  beneath  it.  What  he 
has  observed  is  superb  ;  what  he  has  invented  is  thin, 
insipid,  and  not  even  original.  But  in  spite  of  all 
this,  the  good  things  in  the  book  are  so  good  that  I 
think  I  shall  make  up  my  mind  to  write  him  a 
truthful  letter,  which  will  both  please  and  pain  him. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 

What  about  you — are  you  working  ?  Madame 
Commanville  tells  me  you  are.  All  the  better. 
Make  the  most  of  the  time  you  have  got  before 
some  infirmity  takes  hold  of  you,  for,  once  that  has 
come,  all  is  over.  It  inspires  one  with  a  submissive- 
ness  and  a  humility  which  may  be  excellent  from  a 
Christian  point  of  view,  but  are  not  worth  a  damn 
for  any  one  who  can  still  do  something. 

You'll  be  back  for  the  New  Year,  sha'n't  you  ? 
Goodbye.     I  send  you  my  love. 

I  am  not  sad,  but  I  am  not  in  the  least  happy.  I 
remind  myself  of  one  of  the  shades  of  the  Elysian 
Fields  in  Gliick's  Orfeo.  I  expect  I  have  their  look 
of  "  deep  surprise  and  deep  indifference,"  as  Jules 
Simon  said  when  he  became  one  of  MacMahon's 
ministers.  Jules  Simon  a  minister  !  It's  pretty 
comic,  isn't  it  ? 

Your  friend, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


1 06 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

The  letter  that  Tourguéneff  was  thinking  of 
writing  to  Daudet  was  indeed  sent  to  him,  and 
the  author  of  the  Nabab  published  it  in  the 
article  on  Tourguéneff  which  he  wrote  for  the 
New  York  Century  Magazine  in  1883.  Here 
it  is  : — 

"  Monday ,  May  24,  1877. 

"  My  dear  Friend, — I  have  not  written  to  you 
before  about  your  book,  because  I  wished  to  do  so 
at  some  length,  and  not  to  be  content  with  a  few 
banal  phrases.  I  am  putting  it  all  off  until  we 
meet,  which  will  be  soon  I  hope,  for  Flaubert  will 
be  back  in  a  few  days,  and  we  shall  begin  our 
dinners  again. 

"  I  will  confine  myself  to  saying  this  one  thing  : 
the  Nabab  is  the  most  remarkable  and  at  the  same 
time  the  most  unequal  thing  you  have  done  yet. 
If  one  were    to  describe  Froment   et    Risler   by  a 

straight    line,    thus  : ,   the    Nabab  would 

have  to  be  described  thus  :  ^^-^^v>^^,  and  the 
highest  points  in  the  zig-zag  could  only  be  reached 
by  a  talent  of  the  first  rank. 

"  I  must  apologise  for  expressing  myself  in  such  a 
geometrical  fashion. 

"I  have  had  a  very  long  and  violent  attack  of 

gout.     I    only   went   out    yesterday   for    the    first 

time,  and  my  legs  and    knees  are  like  those  of  a 

man    of  ninety.     I    am  sadly   afraid    I    have   be- 

107 


TEoutguéneff  an& 

come    what    English     people     call    l  a    confirmed 
Invalid? 

"  Best  regards  to  Madame  Daudet. 
a  Affectionately  yours, 

"  Ivan  Tourguéneff." 

In  Alphonse  Daudet's  article  this  letter  is  dated 
May  24,  1877,  by  mistake,  for  it  is  later  than  that 
written  by  Tourguéneff  to  Flaubert  on  Dec.  5, 
1877.  After  comparison  with  the  original  we  find 
that  Daudet's  letter  was  in  reality  dated  Dec.  24, 
1877. 

LI. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Monday,  y  une  14,  1 878. 

My  dear  Friend, — It  is  quite  true,  I  am  an 
odd  being,  but  this  time  less  so  than  you  think. 

I  have  already  told  you  that  that  huge  Khanykoff1 
sent  me  an  invitation  for  yesterday.  I  should  have 
been  able  to  get  out  of  it  if  he  had  not  invited  any- 
body else  for  the  occasion,  but  just  think  of  it  :  two 
mathematicians  expressly  bidden  !  My  reputation 
is  already  so  bad  (in  the  matter  of  keeping  my 
engagements)  that  I  should  have  been  lost  for  ever. 

I  have  read  Zola's  feuilleton.  I  can't  help  it.  I 
pity  him.  Yes,  he  really  fills  me  with  compassion, 
and  I  greatly  fear  he  has  never  read  Shakespeare. 

1  An  old  friend  of  Tourguéneff,  and  a  geographer  fairly  well 
known   in   Russia. 

I08 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

There  is  an  original  taint  in  him  which  he'll  never 
get  rid  of. 

Very  well,  then,  it  shall  be  SATURDAY  ! 

Trust  me  for  being  punctual  that  day. 
Yours  ever, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


LU. 

Bougival,  1 6,  Rue  de  Mesmer,  Les  Frênes, 

Sunday,  y  une  23,  1878. 
I  too,  my  dear  friend,  expected  to  be  in  Germany  ; 
but  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  have  let  myself  be  roped 
in  by  this  International  Congress  *  business,  which 
will  not  and  cannot  have  any  result  whatever  ;  and 
here  I  am  making  speeches  and  so  on  and  so  on. 
What  a  comic  thing  a  deliberative  assembly  is,  my 
friend  !  Imagine  Hugo  getting  ready  yesterday  a 
magnificent  discourse.  This  discourse  is  received 
with  acclamation,  is  ordered  to  be  printed  as  if  it 
had  been  delivered  in  the  Constituent  Assembly, 
and  five  minutes  later  a  resolution  diametrically 
opposed  to  his  speech  is  carried  !  and  he  himself 
votes  for  it  !  We  have  a  Committee  which  sits 
every  day  (I  am  its  vice-president).  We  keep 
marking  time  without  making  any  progress,  as  if 
we  were  idiots,  and  I  begin  to  think  we  really  are. 
I've  had  more  than  I  can  stand,  and  on  Thursday  I 

1  In   1878  the  first  International  Literary  Congress  assembled   in 
Paris,  under  the  presidency  of  Victor  Hugo. 
I09 


Uotirgiiéneff  anE> 

shall  fly  to  Carlsbad,  where  I  implore  you  to  write 
to  me  (C,  Bohemia,  poste  restante).  I  daresay 
the  water  I  shall  drink  there  is  a  sham  too,  but  at 
all  events  it  is  a  less  obvious  one. 

As  for  you,  health  and  patience  are  what  I  wish 
for  you  with  all  my  heart. 

I  saw  Zola  for  a  moment  ;  he  has  bought  a  little 
house  near  Maisons-Laffitte,  and  is  just  going  to 
move  in. 

Henri  Martin  is  certainly  not  a  great  writer,  but 
confess  that  Taine  in  Thiers'  fauteuil  strikes  one  as 
just  a  little  monstrous  !  Personally  I  like  Martin 
very  much,  and  am  glad  of  his  success. 

Best  love  to  you. 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 
LIII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday,  November  9,  1878. 
My  dear  old  Boy, — "  Àpr} s  tant  de  malheurs, 
Rhadamiste,  est-ce  vous  !  "  1  After  such  a  long 
silence,  after  excursions  into  Russia,  England,  and 
God  knows  where,  yes  it  is  really  I  !  And  I  am 
writing  to  tell  you  that  I  have  only  been  settled  in 
Paris  since  yesterday  ;  that  I  am  anxious  for  news 
of  you  ;  and  that  you  must  tell  me  how  much  longer 
you  mean  to  stay  at  Croisset,  for  I  suppose  you  are 
there,  and  I  want  to  go  and  see  you  there. 

1  A  quotation  from  one  of  Crébillon's  plays. 
I  IO 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

My  health  is  fairly  good,  and  I  am  walking  quite 
alone,  like  a  three-year-old  baby.  I  won't  add 
another  word  to-day,  for  I  feel  a  good  deal  flustered, 
and  shall  await  your  reply. 

Much  love  to  you. 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


LIV. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday,  November  27,  1878. 
My  dear  old  Boy, — In  reply  to  your  little 
note,  the  sadness  of  which  distressed  me,  I  meant 
to  have  turned  up  at  Croisset,  and  if  I  have  not 
done  so,  it  has  been  owing  to  circumstances  over 
which  I  had  no  control.  I  had  to  bury  a  forty- 
year-old  friend  (I  mean  of  forty  years'  standing), 
KhanykofF,  who  went  and  died  at  Rambouillet,  in 
that  forbidding  house  I  saw  there.  It  was  horrible 
at  Père  Lachaise — mud  under  foot,  a  sort  of  sleet  or 
snow  overhead,  and  a  horrid,  dirty  fog  everywhere. 
They  had  infinite  trouble  in  letting  down  the 
enormous  heavy  coffin  into  the  gaping  pit.  I  said 
a  few  words  of  farewell  at  the  edge  of  this  pit, 
standing  on  a  heap  of  greasy,  slippery  lumps  of  mud. 
I  spoke  bareheaded  and  caught  rather  a  bad  cold, 
which  prevents  my  leaving  my  room  and  going  to 
Croisset.  Nevertheless,  I  am  better,  and  certainly 
next  week  shall  not  go  by  without  your  having 
m 


TEourguéneff  anft 

seen  me  at  your  Croisset  home.  I  can  see  from 
here  a  sceptical  smile  hovering  on  your  lips,  and  I 
am  bound  to  admit  that  you  are  justified  in  allowing 
it  to  hover  there — but  you  shall  see  ! 

Zola  has  not  yet  returned  to  Paris,  and  I  have  not 
seen  Daudet.  Goncourt  came  to  see  me  yesterday 
to  get  a  little  local  colour  out  of  me,  Southern 
Russia,  gypsy  names,  &c.  He  seemed  well,  but 
rather  thin,  and  with  the  old,  deep-set,  shining  eyes, 
which  didn't  look  right  at  all.  He  spoke  of  you 
with  much  friendliness. 

I  am  just  sixty  years  old,  my  dear  old  boy.  It's 
the  beginning  of  the  end  of  life.  A  Spanish  pro- 
verb says  "  the  tail  is  the  hardest  part  of  all  to 
skin,"  and  yet  it  is  the  part  which  promises  the 
least  pleasure  and  the  least  profit.  Life  becomes 
a  purely  personal  matter,  only  occupied  in  defend- 
ing itself  from  death.  And  this  intensifying  of  the 
personal  note  drains  life  of  all  interest  even  for  the 
individual  concerned.  But,  after  all,  you  are  not 
yourself  in  such  good  spirits  that  I  need  add  this 
touch  of  sorrow.  Let  it  be  as  if  nothing  had  been 
said.  When  we  meet  I  shall  have  much  to  tell 
you  about  my  two  journeys  in  Russia  and  England. 
So  be  sure  and  make  me  talk  away.  All  are  well 
here  and  send  you  messages.  As  for  me,  I  send 
you  my  love. 

A  bientôt. — You  shall  hear  the  day  before. 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
1  12 


HMs  jfrencb  Circle 


LV. 


Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday,  ^January  7,  1879. 

Well,  my  friend,  still  no  letter  ?  However 
perhaps  it's  as  well,  for  if  you  had  written  to  me 
a  fortnight  or  ten  days  ago  I  shouldn't  have  been 
able  to  come,  as  I  have  been  in  bed  with  gout. 
The  attack  has  been  sharp  but  short,  and  for  the  last 
five  days  I  have  been  wearing  my  boots  and  walking 
about  like  a  normal  being.  Anyway,  send  me  news 
of  yourself,  and  don't  forget  you  have  promised  to 
come  to  Paris  at  the  beginning  of  February. 

Our  poor  dinners  are  collapsing  dreadfully. 
I  have  received  a  line  from  Daudet,  who  is 
suffering  greatly  from  rheumatism  in  his  right  arm. 
As  for  Zola  he  has  been  back  in  Paris  four  days, 
and  I  have  just  seen  him.  He  is  looking  fat  and 
jolly.  He  has  just  finished  building  a  house  in  the 
country,  and  in  ten  days  L?  Assommoir  is  to  be  given. 
He  has  promised  me  a  stall  for  the  first  night.  There 
will  probably  be  a  fine  old  row.  But  he  knows 
that,  and  doesn't  care  a  fig.  And  he  doesn't  care  a 
fig  either  for  the  stir  his  Russian  articles  have  made, 
or  for  the  violent  attacks  of  Ulbach,  Claretie,  &c. 
But  I  was  forgetting  ;  you  probably  get  no  news- 
papers where  you  are,  and  perhaps  know  nothing  of 
the  whole  business,  but  we'll  talk  about  it  when  we 
meet,  if  the  whole  thing  isn't  forgotten  by  that 
113  1 


ZTourguéneff  anft 

time.1  I  am  so  distressed  to  see  you  in  such  a 
Slough  of  Despond,  and  unable  to  struggle  out  of 
it.  It's  no  use  eating  one's  heart  out,  under  any 
circumstances,  and  I  am  glad  to  know  that  you're 
pegging  away  at  your  work.  Nevertheless,  there 
are  some  things  I  don't  understand.  What  can  it 
matter  to  you  if  Charpentier  publishes  Sarah  Bern- 
hardt ?  and  what  a  mere  pin-prick  the  whole  thing 
is  !  The  book,  which  is  as  stupidly  written  as  it  is 
miserably  illustrated  by  M.  Clairin,  is  already  more 
completely  forgotten  than  last  year's  fashions.  And 
what  did  you  think  of  the  day  before  yesterday  ? 

Madame    Viardot    sends    you    a   thousand    kind 
messages,  and  I  send  you  my  love. 
Yours, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


1  The  articles  by  Zola  referred  to  in  this  letter  appeared  first  in 
the  Russian  review,  the  Messager  de  l'Europe,  afterwards  in  the 
Figaro  (December,  1877),  and  were  finally  collected  in  a  volume 
called  Les  romanciers  naturalistes,  which  contained  appreciations  of 
Stendhal,  Balzac,  Goncourt,  Flaubert,  and  Daudet.  At  the  time  of 
their  publication  these  articles  were  subjected  to  such  lively  criticism 
and  such  violent  newspaper  attacks,  that  M.  Bardoux,  the  Minister 
of  Public  Instruction,  who,  at  the  instance  of  Flaubert  and  Daudet, 
was  on  the  point  of  bestowing  upon  Zola  the  Cross  of  a  Knight  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour,  was  obliged  to  abandon  his  intention.  M. 
Paul  Alexis,  in  his  book  on  Zola,  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  when 
M.  Bardoux  proposed  the  author  of  U  Assommoir  to  the  Chief  of  his 
Cabinet,  the  latter  answered  him  solemnly,  "  Impossible,  my  dear  sir, 
it  would  cost  you  your  portfolio." 


"4 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 


LVI. 


Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday,  January  n,  1879. 
My    dear    Friend, — I    shall    come    and    see 
you  as  soon  as   this    cold,   snowy   weather    stops, 
probably    towards    the    end    of    next    week.     Of 
course  I  shall  let   you  know  beforehand.     I,  too, 
have  the  greatest  wish  to  see  you  and  talk  to  you. 
I  didn't  know  Madame  Commanville  had  returned 
to  Paris.     I  shall  go  and  call  upon  her  to-morrow. 
You  are  in  a  bad  way,  my  poor,  dear  old  boy,  but 
you've  got  health,  work,  and  true  friends  left.  With 
those  one  can  get  on.     But  don't  prey  upon  your- 
self ;  it's  the  one  thing  one  can't  do  with  impunity. 
The  whole  Viardot  family  sends  you  a  thousand 
kind  messages.     As  for  me,  I  send  you  my  love. 

Yours, 

Iv.  Tourg. 


LVII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday,  January  21,  1 8  79. 
My  dear  old  Boy, — You  want  to  know  why  I 
have  given  no  sign  of  life.  Alas,  my  friend,  the 
real  truth  is,  I  am  nothing  but  an  invalid,  and  can 
no  longer  undertake  anything.  It  is  now  a  fortnight 
ago  since  gout  fastened  upon  me  again,  and  it  is 
"5 


Uourguéneff  an& 

only  since  yesterday  that  I  have  been  able  to  walk 
about  my  room  again,  needless  to  say  with  the  help 
of  crutches.  I  wasn't  able  to  go  to  the  first  night 
of  V  Assommoir^  which,  considerably  bowdlerised 
it  seems,  had  a  good  old  melodrama  success. 
I  received  yesterday  the  news  of  my  brother's1 
death.  It  has  been  a  great  grief  to  me,  both 
personally  and  in  retrospect.  We  seldom  saw  one 
another,  and  we  had  next  to  nothing  in  common  ; 
but  a  brother,  though  sometimes  less,  is  always  some- 
thing différent  from,  a  friend,  less  dear,  but  more 
intimate.  My  brother  died  worth  millions,  but  he 
leaves  his  entire  fortune  to  his  wife's  relations.  He 
put  me  down  for  250,000  francs  in  his  will  (so  he 
wrote  to  me),  which  is  just  about  the  twentieth 
part  of  his  fortune.2  ...  I  shall  probably  have  to 
go  to  the  spot  without  delay.  This  legacy  of  my 
brother's  may  quite  conceivably  end  in  smoke  !  So 
perhaps  in  ten  days  I  shall  be  on  my  way  to  Moscow. 
In  that  case,  when  shall  we  meet  again  ?  For  it 
would  be  no  use  thinking  of  going  to  Croisset,  and 
yet  I  have  the  greatest  possible  wish  to  see  you. 
Is  it  really  necessary  for  you  to  stay  down  there 
until  the  end  of  February.  What  a  depressing 
winter  !  No  mole,  even,  leads  a  more  retired  life 
than  I  do.     To  be  alone,  quite  alone,  doing  nothing, 

1  His  eldest  brother,  Nicholas. 

2  Some  rather  strong  expressions  have  been  suppressed  in  this  letter 
and  in  two  others. 

Il6 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

gives  one  an  overwhelming  sense  of  one's  uselessness. 
Ah  well,  patience  ! 

Happily  all  the  household  here  is  well.  Write 
me  two  words.  I  hope  your  work  is  getting  on 
steadily. 

My  love  to  you. 

Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


LVIII. 

Paris,  Rue   de   Douai, 

Friday,  January  24,  1879. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — I  received  your  letter,  and 
yesterday  Madame  Commanville  was  kind  enough 
to  come  and  see  me.  We  had  a  pretty  long  talk, 
and  of  course  you  were  the  principal  topic  of  our 
chat.  She  seemed  very  well,  and  much  inclined 
for  work.  I  shall  return  her  visit  as  soon  as  I  can 
walk  without  the  help  of  a  stick,  and,  above  all,  as 
soon  as  I  can  walk  upstairs. 

It's  quite  on  the  cards  that  my  journey  to  Russia 
may  be  postponed  ;  it  all  depends  on  the  letters 
I  receive  from  there.  In  that  case  I  should  cer- 
tainly go  to  Croisset.  .  .  .  Your  niece  tells  me 
you  are  well  ;  that's  the  chief  thing. 

You  are  not  fond  of  walking,  but  you  must  force 
yourself  to  do  it.     I  was  once  in  prison  (in  solitary 
confinement)  for  more  than  a  month.     My  room 
117 


ZEourguéneff  anE> 

was  a  small  one,  and  the  heat  was  intense.  Twice 
a  day  I  carried  104  cards  (two  packs)  one  by  one, 
from  one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other.  That 
made  208  turns  ==  416  in  the  day  ;  each  turn  took 
eight  steps,  which  made  it  come  to  more  than 
3,300,  nearly  two  kilomètres  !  Let  this  ingenious 
calculation  encourage  you  !  If  by  chance  I 
missed  my  walk,  I  had  all  the  blood  in  my  body 
concentrated  in  my  head  that  day. 

I  cut  out  the  enclosed  article  from  a  newspaper 
for  you  ;  it  strikes  me  as  the  work  of  a  thorough 
pedant. 

I'll  write  to  you  soon,  directly  I  know  anything 
for  certain.     Meanwhile  I  send  you  my  love. 
Yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


LIX. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday y  March  19. 
My  dear  old  Boy, — You  must  have  thought 
yesterday,  "  What  a  humbug  the  man  is  !  He 
can't  go  on  the  spree  because  he  has  got  gout, 
and  the  next  day  he's  promenading  the  town  !  " 
It's  all  very  well,  but  I'm  not  really  such  a  humbug 
as  all  that.  I  was  not  at  all  well  when  I  went 
out  yesterday  (I  was  only  away  exactly  an  hour) 
and  you  came  five  minutes  too  soon. 
118 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

As  for  the  day  before  yesterday  I  felt  so  wretched, 
both  my  feet  hurt  me  so  badly,  I  felt  so  weak,  old, 
gouty,  used-up,  that  the  idea  of  going  to  see  what 
they  wanted  to  show  us,  filled  me  with  a  dismal 
melancholy.  I'm  sure  I  should  have  been  bored — 
or  even  worse — even  if  I  had  been  able,  with  the 
two  diseased  things  that  serve  me  for  legs,  to  get 
up  as  far  as  the  studio. 

I  decided  to  stay  here  like  an  old  toad  in  his 
damp  hole.  To-morrow  I  shall  do  all  I  can  to 
drag  myself  to  your  house.     If  not,  goodbye. 

As  soon  as  ever  I  am  well  enough  to  get  into 
the  train  I  shall  start  ;  probably  at  the  end  of  next 
week. 

Iv.  Tourg. 


LX. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Friday  Morning. 
My  dear  Invalid,1 — I  was  on  the  point  or 
starting  when  your  letter  arrived.  I  won't  come 
to-day,  since  you  wish  it  so,  but  I  really  must  see 
you — both  for  your  sake  and  mine — and  I  shall 
come  on  Monday.  What  do  you  say  to  two 
o'clock  ?  I  shall  arrive  in  the  morning,  and  shall 
stay  till  the  following  day.  If  you  haven't  a  bed 
to  give  me,  I  shall  sleep  at  Rouen.     As  it  is  more 

1  Flaubert  had  broken  his  leg. 
119 


ZTonrfliteneff  an& 

than  probable  that  I  shall  start  for  Russia  in  a 
week's  time,  I  have  set  my  heart  on  seeing  you 
beforehand. 

Why  didn't  you  answer  my  telegram  (reply 
paid)  ?  You  kept  me  all  one  day  in  real  anxiety. 
And  Madame  Viardot,  too,  who  wishes  me  to  tell 
you  that  she  didn't  even  know  herself  how  fond 
she  was  of  you.  I  wrote  yesterday  to  Madame 
Commanville,  and  he  answer  reassured  me.  But 
she  only  spoke  of  a  sprain,  and  yet  I  see  that  you 
have  broken  your  leg.  I  dreamed  that  you  showed 
me  the  place,  a  little  below  the  right  knee. 

Well,  then,  Monday — te  volente  aut  nolente  !  I 
shall  have  lots  of  things  to  say  and  to  hear. 

I  hope  you  will  be  quite  spry  again  when  I  come 
back    from    Russia,    which    will   be  in  six  weeks. 
Meanwhile  I  send  you  my  love, 
Yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


LXI. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 

Thursday,  August  7,  1879. 
My  dear  Friend, — You  have  really  left  me 
too  long  without  news  of  you.  Write  me  a  line 
and  tell  me  what  you  are  doing,  and  how  you  are, 
&c.  As  for  me  I  am,  physically  speaking,  very 
well,  but  as  for  the  state  of  my  soul.  .  .  .  All  my 
120 


1fMs  jfreucb  Circle 

little  world  here  sends  you  its  best  regards.  I  do 
too  (from  the  bottom  of  my  spleen)  for  I  am  very 
fond  of  you,  as  you  know, 

Yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


LXII. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 
Seine-et-Oise, 

Saturday ,  August  30,  1879. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — All  right,  I  shall  await 
your  summons.  It's  true  I  do  mean  to  go  to  Russia, 
not  to  work  there — save  the  mark  ! — but  just  simply 
to  breathe  the  Marseillais'  proverbial  native  air. 
This  decision  has  dragged  me  out  of  the  state  of 
nervous  irritability  in  which  I  was  consuming 
myself,  to  speak  like  a  prig.  You  may  laugh  if 
you  like,  but  the  thought  of  plunging  up  to  my 
neck  into  that  stagnant  pool,  has  somewhat  calmed 
me.  So  much  for  human  nature  !  the  said  prig 
would  exclaim. 

I've  had  to  promise  Madame  Adam  l  a  little  story 
of  ten  pages,  and  I  took  the  liberty  of  telling  her 
I  intended  asking  you  to  revise  this  important  work. 
So  you  are  warned  ;  about  the  end  of  November 
I  shall  descend  upon  you  with  my  MS. 

I,  too,  am  longing   to   become  acquainted  with 

1  Editress  of  La  Nouvelle  Revue. 
121 


TEourgucneff  anft 

B.  and  P.'s  philosophy.     It  all  depends  on  you.     I 
am  waiting,  and  meanwhile  I  send  you  my  love. 
Yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — I've  read  Daudet's  first  feuilletons.1 

LXIII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Sunday  Morning. 

My  very  dear  Friend, — Last  night  my  foot 
swelled  up  again,  and  here  I  am  once  more  tied  to 
my  arm-chair.  I  am  not  sure  of  being  able  to  start 
the  day  after  to-morrow,  but  in  any  case  I  can't  go 
out  to-day. 

I  am  sending  back  your  MS.  If  you  see  Zola, 
tell  him  I'll  send  him  some  subjects  for  feuilletons 
as  soon  as  I've  seen  and  talked  to  Stassulevitch.2 
Meanwhile  I've  got  an  idea.  How  would  it  be  if 
he  wrote  a  psychological  study  of  the  inner  work- 
ings of  Parisian  journalism.  It  would  not  be  very 
"  actual,"  but  it  might  be  very  interesting  ;  the 
public  has  a  great  appetite  for  such  things. 

Well,  goodbye  and  au  revoir  till  times  are  better. 
My  best  love  to  you, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — Remember  me  kindly  to  Madame  Com- 
manville  and  her  husband. 

1  Les  Rois  en  e'xil . 

2  Editor  of  the  Messager  de  l'Europe. 

122 


HMs  jfrencb  Circle 


LXIV. 


Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 

Thursday,  November  13,  1879. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — I  will  myself  bring  to 
Croisset  the  proofs  of  the  little  trifle  I  am  just 
perpetrating.1  It  will  be  some  time  towards  the 
end  of  December,  as  the  thing  itself  is  only  to  be 
published  in  the  issue  of  the  15th.  You  shall  have 
word  sent  to  you  twenty-four  hours  in  advance. 

Do  you  know  that  for  the  last  six  days  we  have 
been  reading  U  Education  Sentimentale  with  enchant- 
ment and  delight  ?  After  the  other  things  we  have 
been  reading  (it's  true  they  comprised  novels  out  of 
La  Revue  des  Deux  'Mondes,  and  I  needn't  say 
more),  it  struck  us  as  wonderful  !  There  is,  how- 
ever, one  blot  and  only  one  in  it,  and  that  is  in 
your  account  of  Mademoiselle  Arnoux's  singing. 
To  begin  with,  according  to  your  description  of 
her,  she  ought  to  sing  something  else  and  to  sing  it 
quite  differently  ;  2nd,  a  contralto  voice  does  not 
seek  its  effects  in  high  notes,  in  making  the  third 
note  even  higher  than  the  two  first  ;  3rd,  you  ought 
to  have  specified  from  a  musical  point  of  view 
exactly  what  she  sang,  as,  without  that,  the  im- 
pression remains  vague  and  even  just  a  little  comic, 
which  is  not  at  all  what  you  wished,  is  it  ?  But 
you  will  remember  the  classic  line  :   Ubi  plura  nihil 

1  Monsieur  François,  a  reminiscence  of  1848,  published  in  the 
Nouvelle  Revue,  December  15,  1879. 

I23 


ZoxxvQxxàxctt  anft 

in  carmine,  &c,  and  I  wish  for  B.  and  P.  the 
repentance  necessary  for  their  great  religious  act, 
and  the  more  fervent  it  is  the  more  vigorously 
they'll  kick  over  the  traces  afterwards. 

I  am  well  in  health,  my  gout  is  quiescent,  but 
there  are  still  invalids  in  the  house.  I  have  given 
the  Viardots  your  kind  messages  and  they  are 
grateful. 

I  send  you  my  best  love. 

Yours, 

Iv.  Tourg. 

LXV. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Sunday,  November  23,  1879. 

Certainly  I  will  come  to  Croisset  on  the  12th 
with  two  bottles  of  champagne  under  my  arm  with 
which  to  celebrate  the  "how-manyth  " I  year  of 
your  existence  ?  Exactly  a  fortnight  ago,  on  the 
9th  of  November,  I  was  6 1  ! 

You  will  have  the  proofs  of  my  little  story  for 
the  Nouvelle  Revue  during  the  first  days  of  Decem- 
ber, and  don't  shrink  from  criticism  if  you  find 
anything  in  it  which  isn't  done  absolutely  as  it 
should  be. 

I,  too,  am  one  of  the  patrons  of  the  fête  given  for 
the  benefit  of  the  victims  of  the  flood  at  Murcia. 
The  date   of  this   fête    is   fixed   for  the    nth  of 

1  Flaubert  was  born  December  12,  182 1  ;  he  was  therefore  at  this 
time  58  years  old. 

I24 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

November.  All  we  shall  have  to  do — for  I  suppose 
yon  will  consent — will  be  to  put  on  a  black  coat,  a 
white  tie,  and  to  honour  the  fête  with  our  presence, 
with  a  little  distinctive  decoration  in  our  button- 
holes. As  you  see  it  is  quite  easy  to  do.  You 
would  have  to  send  up  your  acceptance,  and  then 
come  to  Paris  on  the  nth,  or  the  evening  of  the 
ioth,  and  we  would  set  out  together  again  for 
Croisset  on  the  evening  of  the  nth,  or  else  quite 
early  on  the  morning  of  the  12th.   So  much  for  that. 

We  are  still  reading  U Éducation  among  ourselves, 
and  always  with  the  same  pleasure. 

No,  Nana  is  not  having  any  success,  and  yet  two 
really  charming  chapters  appeared  a  few  days  ago. 
But  viewed  as  a  whole  it's  dull,  and,  what  Zola 
would  mind  more,  it's  not  the  least  simple  and  fear- 
fully tendenz,  if  one  may  use  the  word. 

I  have  an  appointment  to-morrow  with  your 
niece.  I  am  coming  back  from  the  country 
towards  the  end  of  this  week.  We  shall  meet 
soon.     My  best  love  to  you. 

Yours, 

Iv.  Tourg. 

LXVI. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday,  December  2,  1879. 
Here  I  am  boring  you  with  the  tiresome  piece 
of  work  I  spoke  to  you  about.     And  this  is  what  I 
125 


Zlourgueneff  anfr 

want  you  to  do  out  of  your  friendship  for  me. 
Read  this  little  trifle,1  correct,  change,  cut  it  as 
you  will,  and  let  me  have  it  back  by  to-morrow 
if  you  can.  I  shall  be  as  grateful  as  it's  possible 
to  be. 

I  came  back  to  Paris  two  days  ago.  You  have 
never  said  if  you.  approved  of  my  plan  for  your 
coming  here  on  the  nth.  In  any  case  I  shall 
spend  the  day  of  the  12th  at  Croisset.  That's  a 
fixed  thing.  A  thousand  thanks  in  advance,  and 
my  love  to  you. 

Iv.  Tourg. 

LXVII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday  Morning. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — The  caviare  and  the 
salmon  were  sent  four  days  ago,  addressed  to 
Monsieur  Pilon,  Ouai  du  Havre,  Rouen,  to  be  sent 
on  to  M.G.F.  (This  address  was  given  me  by 
Commanville).  Make  the  necessary  inquiries.  I 
should  particularly  regret  the  loss  of  the  salmon, 
which  was  a  beauty.  The  cold  which  reigns  here 
freezes  and  stupefies  me.  Nevertheless  I  have 
already  begun  my  preparations  for  departure.  The 
wine  (such  wine  !)  is  drawn  ;  it  must  be  drunk. 

I  shall  soon  send  you  a  novel  in  three  volumes 

1  Monsieur  François. 
I2Ô 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

by  Léon  Tolstoi,1  whom  I  regard  as  the  greatest 
writer  of  our  time.  You  know  who,  in  my 
opinion,  might  dispute  his  rank  with  him.  Un- 
fortunately the  translation  has  been  done  by  a 
Russian  lady,  and  as  a  rule  I  am  greatly  afraid 
of  ladies  who  translate,  especially  when  it  is  a 
question  of  so  virile  a  writer  as  Tolstoï. 
Meanwhile  I  send  you  my  love. 

Yours, 
I.  T. 

In  a  letter  to  Léon  Tolstoï,  dated  the  12th  of 
January,  1880,  Tourguéneff  sends  to  the  author  of 
La  Guerre  et  la  Paix  the  passage  in  Flaubert's 
answer  which  relates  to  this  work.  We  think  its 
reproduction  here  may  interest  our  readers  : — 

"  Thank  you  for  having  made  me  read  Tolstoi's 
novel.  It  belongs  to  the  very  first  rank.  What  a 
word-painter  and  what  a  psychologist  !  The  two 
first  volumes  are  sublime,  but  the  third  goes  off 
terribly.  He  repeats  himself  and  he  philosophises  ! 
In  a  word,  one  realises  the  man  himself,  the  author 
and  the  Russian,  while  till  then  one  had  realised 
nothing  but  nature  and  humanity.  Occasionally 
it  seems  to  me  there  are  things  worthy  of  Shake- 
speare. I  kept  uttering  cries  of  admiration  as  I  read 
it,  .  .  .  and  it's  long.     Yes,  it's  great,  really  great." 

1  La  Guerre  et  la  Paix. 
127 


TEourguéneff  anfr 

LXVIII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday,  January  24,  1880. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — You  can't  imagine  how 
much  pleasure  your  letter  gave  me  and  all  that 
you  said  about  Tolstoi's  novel.  Your  approval 
strengthens  my  own  opinion  of  him.  Yes,  he's 
a  very  great  man,  and  yet  you  have  put  your  finger 
upon  the  weak  spot.  He  has  made  for  himself  a 
system  of  philosophy  mystical,  childish,  and  uncom- 
promising all  at  once,  which  has  terribly  spoiled  his 
second  novel,  written  after  La  Guerre  et  la  Paix,  and 
in  which  also  there  are  absolutely  first-rate  things.1 
I  don't  know  what  our  good  friends  the  critics  will 
say  to  it.  (I  have  also  sent  La  G.  et  la  P.y  to 
Daudet  and  to  Zola.)  But  for  me  the  thing  is 
settled  :  "  Flaubertus  dixit."   Nothing  else  matters.2 

I  am  delighted  to  see  that  you  are  getting  on 
with  your  two  fellows. 

I  am   leaving   Paris  in  the  course  of  next  week, 
but  I  shall  remind  you  of  my  existence  again  before 
going.     Meanwhile,  my  love  to  you. 
Yours, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 

1  Anna  Karénine. 

2  In  a  letter  to  Léon  Tolstoï  preceding  this,  Tourguéneff  tells 
him  that  he  has  sent  copies  of  La  Guerre  et  la  Paix  to  H.  Taine, 
Ed.  About,  André  Theuriet,  &c,  and  in  the  letter  dated  January 
12,  1880,  he  encloses  the  article  from  Le  xixiime  Siècle  (then  edited 
by  Ed.  About)  upon  Tolstoi's  novel.  We  shall  have  occasion  to 
speak  of  the  particular  trouble  taken  by  Tourguéneff  to  make  the 
works  of  his  celebrated  Russian  confrere  known  in  France,  when  we 
publish  his  letter  to  André  Theuriet. 

128 


Ibis  jfrencb  circle 

LXIX. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday  Morning. 

My  dear  old  Boy, — The  sprotten  won't  arrive 
for  another  week.  Meanwhile  I  have  sent  you 
some  other  Swedish  fish,  which,  however,  are  not 
as  good  as  sprotten. 

The  two  books  are  being  sent  off  to-day,  and  to- 
day I  shall  see  your  niece. 

The  three  chapters  you  read  me  gave  the 
greatest  possible  pleasure,  especially  the  second  and 
third.1  Work  hard,  try  and  cheer  up,  and  come 
here  as  soon  as  you  can. 

Meanwhile,  I  too  am  going  to  try  and  work,  and 
I  send  you  my  love. 

Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


LXX. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday,  March  14,  11.30  a.m. 
My  dear  old  Boy, — I  have  just  written  to 
Princess  Mathilde  to  tell  her  I  can't  go  to  her 
dinner.  I  am  very  sorry  about  it.  It's  real  bad 
luck,  but  there's  no  doubt  about  it,  I  can't  yet 
show  my  face  out  of  doors.     I  am   going   out  for 

1  This  refers  to   three  chapters  of  Bouvard  et  Pécuchet,  Flaubert's 
last  work,  which  death  prevented  him  from  finishing. 

I29  K 


Uourguéneff  an£> 

the  first  time  to  see  a  dentist,  and  I  shall  come 
straight  back.  I  had  violent  neuralgia  again  last 
night.  Please  tell  the  Princess  that  all  this  is 
unfortunately  true. 

And  now  to  change  the  subject.  Stassulevitch 
writes  to  me  that  after  due  reflection  he  prefers 
inserting  the  two  legends  together  in  the  number  of 
April  13.  That's  his  look-out,  and  I  daresay  he's 
right.  I  had  written  a  short  preface.  This  will 
make  no  difference  to  its  publication  here. 
Stassulevitch  writes  to  me  that  as  Hérodiade  is  the 
same  length  as  St.  ^Julien,  he  will  make  his  calcu- 
lations on  that  basis  and  will  send  the  money  at 
once.  (I  have  hinted  that  you  won't  be  sorry 
thereat). 

Yours  rather  depressedly, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 
LXXI. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday  Morning. 
My  dear  old  Boy, — This  time  you  really  will 
call  me  a  sleepy  pear,  a  limp  rag,  a  tatter,  &c,  and 
I  must  confess  that  you'll  be  justified.  But  hear 
me  before  you  strike  (here,  you  see,  I  make  a  dis- 
tinction between  myself  and  Themistocles).  All 
my  people  are  leaving  to-day,  and  I  should  have 
been  free,  but  Paul  Viardot 1  is  giving  his  concert 

1   Madame  Viardot's  son. 
130 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

to-morrow,  which  fact  I  had  forgotten,  and  I 
cannot  possibly  get  out  of  going  to  it.  Tuesday 
evening  I  have  got  to  give  a  reading  (to  our 
"  Society  for  the  Protection  of  Russian  Artists") 
for  a  philanthropic  object.  I  could  therefore  come 
on  Wednesday  ;  but  at  a  Sardanapalian  dinner  which 
Zola  gave  us  yesterday,  it  was  arranged  that  he, 
Daudet,  Goncourt,  and  I  should  go  to  you  on 
Sunday  (not  to-morrow,  but  to-morrow  week). 
We  shall  arrive  in  time  for  lunch  ;  they  would  go 
back  the  same  evening,  and  I  would  stay  the  whole 
of  Monday.  For  the  present,  as  you  have  every 
right  to  have  no  more  confidence  in  me,  I  must 
good-humouredly  submit  to  your  abuse,  but  I 
think  that  this  time  the  plan  will  really  hold. 
My  love  to  you, 

Yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


LETTERS   TO    MADAME    COM- 
MANVILLE. 


Bougival,  Seine-et-Oise,  Maison  Halgan, 

Wednesday,  August  19,  1873. 

Madame, — The  first  note  you  were  kind  enough 

to  write  me  only  having  reached  me  on  my  return 

to  Paris  from  Carlsbad,  I  thought  it  was  too  late  to 

131 


TEoitrQiiénefE  anft 

answer  it.  It  is  therefore  with  all  the  more  eager- 
ness that  I  hasten  to  answer  the  one  which  I  have 
just  received.  You  evidently  read  me  with  too 
much  kind  prejudice,  but  none  the  less  what  you 
say  to  me  gives  me  very  great  pleasure,  and  I  am 
very  proud  of  such  praise.  Your  criticism  of  Les 
Eaux  du  Printemps  1  is  perfectly  sound  ;  as  to  the 
second  part,  which  is  neither  properly  worked  out 
nor  even  necessary,  I  let  myself  be  carried  away 
by  my  reminiscences.  I  mean  to  go  to  Croisset 
between  the  ioth  and  the  15th  of  September  ; 
sha'n't  you  be  making  a  little  journey  in  that 
direction  about  that  time  !  Once  back  in  Paris 
I  shall  hope  to  see  you  very  often. 

Please  give  my  best  regards  to  M.  Comman- 
ville  and  accept  the  assurance  of  my  warmest 
friendship. 

Yours  cordially, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

II. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday  Morning. 
Alas  !  my  dear  Madame  Commanville,  I  can't  go 
to  you  this  evening.  Instead  of  spending  a  very 
pleasant  hour  in  your  company  and  in  that  of 
Goethe,  I  am  obliged  to  go  and  bore  myself  (this 
is   between  ourselves)  at  Madame   Garvady's  con- 

*  Translated  into  French  under  the  title  of  Les  Eaux  Printanières. 
!32 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

cert,   which    I   can't    get    out    of  for   unavoidable 
reasons. 

Give  me  any  other  day  (except  to-morrow)  and 
I  shall  be  delighted  to  put  myself  at  your  disposal. 
With  affectionate  regards, 
Believe  me, 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

III. 
50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday  Morning. 
Dear  Madame  Commanville, — Well,  man 
proposes — gout  disposes.  I  had  fully  determined 
to  go  to  you  to-day,  as  you  are  at  home  on 
Wednesdays,  and  since  yesterday  I  have  been  laid 
low  with  a  swollen  knee  and  absolutely  unable  to 
move.  Please  believe  how  disappointed  I  am.  I 
hope  it  won't  last  very  long,  and  that  I  shall  soon 
be  able  to  bring  you  my  New  Year's  wishes  and 
also  my  most  affectionate  regards. 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — My  best  regards  to  M.  Commanville. 

IV. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet, 

Tuesday,  August  26,  1879. 
Dear  Madame  Commanville, — You  are  very 
kind  to  take  so  much  interest  in  me  and  to  con- 
133 


TEourouéneff  anft 

gratulate  me  upon  an  appointment  which  I  cer- 
tainly didn't  ask  for  and  which  I  don't  even  quite 
understand,  for  what  on  earth  is  an  "  Officer  of 
Public  Instruction"?  It  appears  that  it  carries 
with  it  the  right  to  wear  a  purple  ribbon — purple, 
not  red.  I  shall  fasten  it  on  to  my  Oxford  Doc- 
tor's gown,  which  is  a  very  bright  red  ;  the  colours 
will  go  perfectly  together. 

You  tell  me  nothing  of  your  health  nor  of  your 
work.  I  shall  let  myself  conclude,  therefore,  that 
all  is  well.  Shall  you  be  long  at  Croisset  ?  I  owe 
vour  uncle  a  letter,  but  I  have  not  been  at  all  in  a 
letter-writing  humour  all  this  time.  Kiss  him  for 
me.  I  think  I  may  charge  you  with  this  commis- 
sion, and  please  accept  for  yourself  a  very  cordial 
and  affectionate  "shake-hand  "  from 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday  Morning. 
What  a  shocking  accident  !  z  I  immediatelv 
telegraphed  to  Flaubert,  reply  paid,  but  have 
received  no  answer,  which  worries  me  a  great  deal. 
I  shall  go  to  Croisset  to-morrow.  Can  vou  give 
me  any  news  r 

1   Flaubert    had    broken    his    leg,    as    we    saw    from    the     letters 
addressed   to  him. 

Ï34 


Ibig  jfrencb  Circle 

I  am  addressing  this  to  Monsieur  or  Madame,  as 
I  suppose  one  of  you  will  have  gone  to  Croisset. 
Excuse  the  incoherence  of  this  note. 

A  thousand  kind  regards, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


VI. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday. 
Thank  you  a  thousand  times,  dear  Madame 
Commanville,  for  your  little  note.  I  am  a  little 
better  ;  that  is  to  say,  I  am  going  about  on 
crutches,  but  I  don't  yet  know  when  I  shall  be 
able  to  leave  the  house. 

My  first  visit  will  of  course  be  to  you.     My  best 
regards  to  you  and  M.  Commanville. 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


VII. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes  Chalet,  Seine-et-Oise, 

Sunday,  November  23,  1879. 

Dear  Madame, — I  am  still  in  the  country,  and 

I  only  received   your  letter  last  night.     I  am  much 

afraid   that  "  next  Sunday  "  means  to-day,  and  in 

that  case  the  information  you  ask  of  me,  which  I 

should  have  been  most  happy  to  give  Père  Didon, 

135 


ZEourguéneff  an& 

will  come  too  late.  However  I'll  come  to  Paris  to- 
morrow, and  shall  be  passing  your  door  about  four 
o'clock  ;  at  all  events  I  should  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you  even  if  I  can't  be  of  any  use  to  Père 
Didon. 

Please  accept  my  most  cordial  regards, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


VIII. 

Spasskoïé,  Prov.  of  Orel,  Mtsensk  Town, 
Thursday ,  May  27/15,  1 880. 

Dear  Madame  Commanville, — I  am  grateful 
to  you  for  having  thought  of  me  in  the  midst  of 
your  sore  trouble.  Your  uncle's  death  has  been 
one  of  the  greatest  sorrows  I  have  ever  experienced 
in  my  life,  and  I  cannot  get  used  to  the  thought 
that  I  shall  never  see  him  again.1 

The  blow  came  to  me  in  the  cruellest  way 
possible  ;  I  saw  the  news  a  few  days  ago  on  open- 
ing the  paper.  I  have  thought  of  you  a  great  deal 
since  with  the  deepest  possible  pity  and  the  warmest 
sympathy.  It  is  one  of  those  griefs  for  which  one 
refuses  to  be  comforted. 

I  shall  be  back  in  Paris  in  three  weeks'  time,  and 
I  shall  come  and  see  you  immediately.  I  will  put 
myself  entirely  at  your  disposal,  either  with  regard 
to  the  publication  of  the  novel  which  killed  him — 

1  Flaubert  died  at  Croisset,  May  8,  1880. 
136 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

or  anything  else.  I  feel  that  Flaubert's  niece  is 
already  inheriting  some  of  the  affection  which  I 
dedicated  to  him. 

Au  revoir,  then,  we  shall  meet  soon.  Till  then 
I  shall  think  of  you  with  tenderest  sympathy,  and 
am  always, 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


IX. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Thursday,  jfuly  22,  1880. 

Dear  Madame  Commanville, — I  was  greatly 
disappointed  not  to  have  seen  you  in  Paris,  but  it 
wasn't  my  fault.  I  only  received  your  letter  of 
the  15th  of  July  in  Paris  in  the  afternoon  ;  and 
there  was  no  means  of  sending  you  a  telegram.  I 
went  to  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  St.  Honoré  on  the 
chance  of  finding  you,  and  at  5  o'clock  I  was 
obliged  to  go  back  to  Bougival.  Our  meeting  is 
therefore,  of  necessity,  postponed  for  a  month. 

As  for  the  proposal  to  make  me  second  vice- 
president  of  this  committee,1  I  not  only  accept  it 
but  I  am  very  glad  to  have  been  thought  of.  It  is 
a  kind  of  duty  to  that  poor,  dear  friend  whom  I 
shall  never  forget.  I  put  myself  entirely  at  your 
disposal  in  anything  that  has  to  do  with  Flaubert. 

1  A   committee    organised    for   the    erection   of   a   monument  to 
Flaubert. 

137 


ZEourguéneff  anft 

You  surprised  me  a  great  deal  by  your  question 
about  philosophy  in  Russia.  I  am  bound  to  tell  you 
that  the  public  takes  terribly  little  interest  in  it. 
Just  lately  two  young  writers  have  written  two 
books  upon  the  subject  ;  it  was  a  very  long  time 
since  anything  of  the  kind  had  been  produced. 
Well,  one  of  these  writers  has  already  gone  mad, 
the  other  is  on  the  point  of  so  doing.  The  religious 
questions  which  agitate  Russia  have  nothing  in 
common  either  with  philosophy  or  literature. 

Au  revoir  in  a  month's  time.  Write  me  a  line 
and  I  will  come  to  Paris  at  once.  With  mv  most 
friendly  regards,  I  am,  yours  ever, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


X. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Thursday^  November  1 1,  1880. 
Dear  Madame  Commanville, — -I  am  verv 
sorry  that  my  letter  should  have  distressed  you, 
but  just  think  for  yourself:  M.  Commanville  de- 
cided to  renew  negotiations  with  Madame  Adam  ; 
he  gave  me  full  power  to  act  on  behalf  of  the 
family.  I  went  to  see  her  ;  I  arranged  things  the 
best  way  I  could,  and  now  the  whole  thing  is 
treated  as  though  it  had  never  been,  which  puts 
me  in  a  rather  false  position  with  regard  to  Madame 
Adam.  Therefore  I  don't  see  why  I  should  go 
138 


Ibis  jf rettcb  Circle 

back  to  her.  Let  M.  Commanville  tell  her 
definitely  that  he  accepts  her  offer,  and  everything 
will  be  set  right. 

I  have  received  the  list  of  the  committee  ;  it's 
perfect,  only  I'm  afraid  that  V.  Hugo  will  refuse 
to  sit  with  Zola.  I  have  made  an  appointment 
with  Maupassant  for  Saturday  in  Paris  ;  we  will 
settle  what's  to  be  done.  I  shall  probably  go  and 
see  Hugo. 

I  am  all  alone  here  ;  I  want  to  try  if  I  can 
work.  After  Wednesday  I  shall  be  installed  in 
Paris  again — 50,  Rue  de  Douai. 

As  for  yourself,  dear  Madame  Commanville, 
please  believe  that  I  am  attached  to  you,  not  only 
because  you  are  the  niece  of  my  poor  friend,  but 
because  you  yourself  inspire  me  with  the  most 
cordial  respect  and  affection. 

Please  give  my  best  regards  to  your  husband  and 
believe  me  to  be, 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — I  will  let  you  know  the  result  of  my  inter- 
view with  Maupassant. 

At  the  beginning  of  this  letter,  Tourguéneff 
alludes  to  a  slight  misunderstanding  which  arose 
with  regard  to  the  publication  of  Gustave  Flaubert's 
posthumous  work,  Bouvard  et  Pécuchet  in  the 
Nouvelle  Revue.  But  the  difference  was  soon 
139 


ZTourguéneff  anft 

smoothed  over  by  TourguénefF,  as  is  proved  by 
his  note  to  Madame  Commanville  under  the  date 
of  November  29,  1880,  in  which  we  read  : — 

"  Here  is  the  agreement  duly  signed.  The  other 
copy  remains  in  Madame  Adam's  hands.  She  begs 
that  M.  iCommanville  will  take  her  the  MS.  to- 
morrow (Tuesday)  at  3.30.  .  .  . 

"  I  am  very  glad  the  matter  is  settled,  and  I  send 
you  my  best  regards." 


LETTERS  TO  GEORGES  SAND. 

As  we  have  already  seen,  it  was  in  the  year  1847 
at  the  Viardot's  house  that  TourguénefF  first  made 
the  acquaintance  of  Georges  Sand — a  fact  which 
M.  Charles  Edmond  claims,  in  a  letter  written  to 
me,  to  have  had  from  the  proprietress  of  Nohant 
herself.  Indeed,  M.  P.-V.  Annenlcov,  one  or 
TourguénefF's  oldest  and  most  intimate  friends, 
goes  so  far  as  to  say,  in  his  recollections  of  the 
Russian  novelist's  early  life,  that,  in  this  same  year 
1847,  TourguénefF,  deprived  by  his  mother  of  all 
pecuniary  resources,  accepted  Georges  Sand's  hos- 
pitality at  a  place  belonging  to  her  in  the  South  of 
France.  In  this  M.  Annenlcov  is  clearly  mistaken, 
for  we  have  already  seen  from  TourguénefF's  own 
statement  that  it  was  with  the  Viardots  at  Courta- 
venel  that  he  spent  this  time  of  privation.  How- 
140 


1big  jfreitcb  Circle 

ever  this  may  be,  Georges  Sand  certainly  knew  little 
of  Tourguéneff  at  this  time  in  his  private  capacity, 
and  still  less  of  him  as  a  man  of  letters,  his  fame 
having  only  just  begun  to  be  noised  abroad  even  in 
Russia. 

On  the  other  hand,  Tourguéneff  had  long  been 
a  fervent  admirer  of  Georges  Sand,  under  whose 
influence  he  fell  at  the  outset  of  his  literary  career. 
In  his  letters  to  Droujinine,  a  fellow  Russian  writer, 
written  in  1856,  Tourguéneff  acknowledges  Georges 
Sand  as  his  youthful  "  master,"  admitting  that, 
though  he  eventually  freed  himself  from  her 
influence,  he  owed  to  her  "  that  incomplete  truth 
which  has  found,  and  will  always  find,  followers, 
at  an  age  when  the  whole  truth  is  still  out  of 
reach."  A  little  later  on  he  writes  again  :  "  Georges 
Sand  is  not  in  Paris.  And  even  if  I  had  met  her 
I  should  have  said  nothing  to  her  about  the  failure 
of  her  play,  which  is,  to  tell  the  truth,  a  feeble 
production.  Like  the  respectful  sons  of  Noah,  I 
prefer  to  cover  up,  with  averted  eyes,  the  paternal 
nakedness." 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  Tourguéneff,  when 
speaking  of  Gogol,  the  head  of  the  realistic  school 
in  Russia,  uses  the  very  same  expression.  In  a 
letter  dated  the  14th  of  November,  1853,  anc* 
addressed  to  S.-T.  Aksakof,  a  celebrated  Russian 
writer,  he  says,  speaking  of  that  second  part  of 
Ames  Mortes  which  was  burned  by  the  author, 
H1 


TTourguéneff  anfr 

and  of  which  only  fragments  have  been  found  : 
"  The  ninth  chaper  is  superb  ;  on  the  other  hand 
the  fifth  chapter,  with  its  impossible  unreal  character 
of  the  farmer  Mouratov  is.  .  .  .  No,  it's  best  not 
to  speak  of  it,  but,  like  the  respectful  sons  of  Noah, 
cover  up  the  nakedness  of  our  literary  father." 

By  using  the  same  expression  three  years  later 
in  speaking  of  Georges  Sand,  he  thus  recognised 
in  her,  as  well  as  in  Gogol,  his  immediate  literary 
precursor. 

It  was  only  some  time  later,  when  the  French 
translation  of  Les  Récits  d'un  Chasseur  appeared, 
that  Georges  Sand  was  able  to  appreciate  Tour- 
guénefPs  literary  value,  and  it  was  a  revelation 
to  her.  She  has  described  her  impressions  of  the 
book  in  the  dedication  of  her  story  Pierre  Bonnin 
to  TourguénefF  : — 

"  When  I  found  this  feeble  little  study  of  an 
unknown  person  who  died  some  years  ago,  lying 
in  one  of  my  drawers,  I  wondered  whether  it  was 
worth  publishing.  I  was  under  the  spell  of  that 
great  gallery  of  portraits  taken  from  life  which 
you  have  published  under  the  name  of  Mémoires 
d\n  Seigneur  Russe  (Récits  d^un  Chasseur).  What 
a  master's  hand  the  painting  shows  !  How  well 
one  sees,  and  hears  and  knows  those  northern 
peasants  who  were  still  serfs  at  the  time  you 
write  of  them,  and  those  small  squires  and 
nobles,  a  few  moments'  conversation  with  whom 
142 


1bfs  jfrencb  Circle 

was  sufficient  to  enable  you  to  draw  a  picture  of 
them,  palpitating  with  life  and  colour.  No  one 
else  can  do  as  well  "  (  Le  Temps,  October  30, 
1872). 

But  even  then  she  hardly  knew  the  man  himself. 
In  a  letter  to  Gustave  Flaubert,  written  at  the 
end  of  1868,  she  says  :  "  .  .  .  Tourguéneff  has 
been  luckier  than  we,  since  he  has  succeeded  in 
dragging  you  away  from  your  inkstand.  I  hardly 
know  him  at  all  personally,  but  I  know  his  works 
by  heart.  What  a  talent  !  And  how  original  and 
strong  it  is  ;  I  think  foreigners  succeed  better  than 
we  do.  They  don't  pose,  and  we  are  always  either 
acting  or  bowing  down  to  something." 

And  in  a  letter  dated  the  2nd  of  April,  1869, 
addressed  to  the  same  correspondent,  she  writes  : — 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  renew  acquaintance 
with  Tourguéneff,  whom  I  knew  slightly  before  I  had 
read  him,  and  whom  I  have  read  since  then  with  a 
whole-hearted,  complete  admiration.  You  seem  to 
be  very  fond  of  him  :  in  that  case  I  am  very  fond  of 
him  too,  and  I  should  like  you  to  bring  him  here 
as  soon  as  your  novel  is  finished." 

They  did,  indeed,  renew  their  acquaintance  at 
Nohant,  and,  thanks  to  Flaubert,  their  intercourse 
became  more  frequent.  And  it  was  at  this  time, 
just  after  the  Franco-German  war,  thattTourguéneff 
and  Georges  Sand  exchanged  their  first  letters — a 
correspondence  which,  once  begun,  was  kept  up 
H3 


Tlourguéneff  anft 

between  them  until  1876,  the  year  of  Georges 
Sand's  death. 

We  are  indebted  to  Madame  Maurice  Sand  for 
the  permission  to  publish  all  that  Tourguéneff  wrote 
to  the  celebrated  authoress,  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  unimportant  notes. 

We  have  seen  in  the  letters  to  Flaubert,  what  a 
painful  impression  Georges  Sand's  death  made  upon 
TourguenefFs  mind.  In  order  to  emphasise  once 
more  the  filial  respect  in  which  the  author  of  Les 
Récits  d'un  Chasseur  held  the  authoress  of  La  Petite 
Fadette,  we  will  quote  a  few  touching  words  that 
Tourguéneff  wrote  to  M.  Souvorine,  the  editor  of 
the  Novoïe  Vrémia,  in  1876  : — 

"As  I  was  passing  through  St.  Petersburg,  I 
read  the  following  words  in  one  of  your  feuilletons  : 
c  Georges  Sand  is  dead — and  I  don't  want  to  talk 
about  her.' 

"  You  meant,  I  suppose,  that  one  must  either  say 
a  great  deal  about  her  or  nothing  at  all. 

"  I  had  the  happiness  of  knowing  Georges  Sand 
personally,  and  please  do  not  look  upon  this  as  an 
empty  phrase,  for  any  one  who  was  privileged  to  get 
close  to  that  rare  being  may  well  consider  himself 
highly  favoured." 

Then  Tourguéneff  quotes  a  letter  from  a  French 

woman,  who  was  a  close  friend  of  Georges  Sand, 

and   in  which   she  speaks  of   the    kindness  of  the 

chatelaine  of  Nohant,  and  of  the  affection  in  which 

144 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

she  was  held  by  all  the  people  of  the  country.     And 
he  adds  : — 

"  Eight  years  ago,  when  I  got  to  know  Georges 
Sand  better,  the  enthusiasm  which  I  had  formerly  felt 
for  her  had  already  abated.  She  was  no  longer  my 
idol,  but  it  was  impossible  to  be  admitted  into  her 
intimacy  without  adoring  her,  in  another  and  per- 
haps a  better  sense  of  the  word.  Every  one  who  was 
in  her  presence  was  conscious  of  a  nature  infinitely 
kind  and  generous,  in  which  all  selfishness  had 
long  before  been  consumed  by  the  unquenchable 
flame  of  poetic  enthusiasm,  of  faith  in  the  ideal — a 
nature  to  which  everything  human  was  wonder- 
fully near  and  dear,  and  from  which  sympathy  and 
kindliness  seemed  to  flow  outwards  .  .  .  And  crown- 
ing all  that,  there  was  a  kind  of  halo  surrounding 
her,  of  which  she  herself  was  unconscious,  some- 
thing lofty  and  free  and  heroic.  .  .  .  Believe  me, 
Georges  Sand  was  one  of  our  saints  ...  I  know 
you'll  understand  what  I  mean." 


ROUGEMONT,    NEAR   ClOYES, 

Thursday,  I'm  not  sure  which  day  of  September,  1 87 1. 
Dear  Madame  Sand, — After  a  very  large 
dinner,  where  I  drank  a  great  deal  of  sweet 
Madeira,  I've  just  enough  sense  left  to  tell  you 
that  Viardot  and  I  are    sending  you  some  of  the 

H5  L 


TTourgiieneff  an£> 

results   of   cur    day's   shooting  :    a   deer    and    two 
pheasants.     You'll  see  they'll  be  very  good  eating. 
I'm  dead  sleepy,  but  I  love  you  tremendously,  and 
I  love  all  the  inhabitants  of  Nohant,  too. 
Till  Sunday  !  ! 

Your  faithful 

Iv.  ToURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — Viardot  killed  the  deer  ;  in  fact  he  killed 
two,  and  yet  he  complained  of  his  day's  sport. 


II. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Wednesday,  October  10,  1 872. 

Dear  Madame  Sand, — The  little  girls  are 
writing  to  you,  and  I  must  add  one  line.  I  must 
tell  you  how  happy  I  am  to  have  seen  Nohant,  and 
to  have  seen  you  too.  It  certainly  is  the  most 
delightful  retreat  one  could  possibly  dream  of,  and 
your  surroundings  are  delicious.  You  deserve  it, 
and  one  is  always  glad  when  deserved  things  come 
to  pass.  The  children  can  talk  of  nothing  but 
Nohant,  and  as  for  me  I  have  every  intention  of 
returning  there  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  when 
my  gout  departs.  Tell  our  sweet  Lolo  that  when 
that  time  comes  I'll  tell  her  the  most  beautiful 
stories  !  They'll  be  ever  so  much  better  than  that 
stupid  one  of  little  Blaise. 

You'll  be  coming  to  Paris  in  a  few  days,  won't 
146 


Ibis  jfvencb  Circle 

you  ?  I'm  rejoicing  at  the  idea  of  seeing  you  ; 
meantime  I  kiss  your  hand  affectionately,  and  beg 
you  to  say  a  thousand  kind  things  for  me  to  all  at 
Nohant.  Your  devoted 

Iv.   TOURGUÉNEFF. 

III. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

October  30,  1872. 
Dear  Madame  Sand, — You  may  easily  imagine 
what  my  feelings  were  on  reading  Le  Temps,  yester- 
day.1 I  could  never  express  them  as  I  should  like 
to  do.  My  words,  whether  written  or  spoken 
ones,  are  always  far  below  what  I  feel,  when  I  am 
touching  upon  personal  things.  Is  it  from  shyness 
or  awkwardness  ?  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  For 
instance,  when  I  went  to  Nohant,  I  quite  meant 
to  tell  you  what  an  immense  influence  you  have 
had  upon  me,  as  a  writer  ;  and  yet,  I  believe  I 
hardly  said  a  word  about  it.  This  time,  however,  I 
must  tell  you  how  touched  and  how  proud  I  was 
when  I  read  what  Georges  Sand  said  of  my  book, 
and  how  happy  I  was  she  should  have  wanted  to 
say  it.     There  are  two  lines  of  Schiller's — 

"  He  who  has  lived  for  the  best  men  of  his  time, 
Has  lived  for  all  time  " — 


1  TourguénefF  refers  to  the  preface  to  Pierre  Bonnin,  a  story  which 
Georges  Sand  dedicated  to  him,  and  to  which  we  referred  in  our 
prefatory  note^to  these  letters  to  Georges  Sand. 

H7 


Uourauéneff  anft 

therefore  I  have    nothing    more    to  live  for    now, 
and  you  have  given  me  a  share  in  your  immortality  ! 

Thank  you  very,  very  much,  and  I  hope  I  shall 
soon  see  you  in  Paris  to  thank  you  again. 

Meanwhile  I  kiss  your  hand,  and  am  for  ever 
Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 


IV. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Sundays  December  29,  1872. 
Dear  Madame  Sand, — A  thousand  thanks  for 
the  lovely  sleeve-links,  which  I  have  been  proudly 
wearing  since  yesterday,  and  a  thousand  wishes 
for  a  Happy  New  Year  to  you,  and  to  all  yours. 
Though  my  horrible  gout  kept  me  from  spending 
Christmas  Day  with  you,  I  hope  it  will  not  prevent 
my  coming  to  see  you  at  Nohant  before  I  leave 
France  in  April.  Meanwhile  I  kiss  your  hand, 
and  am  always 

Your  faithful 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 
V. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Saturday,  April  12,  1 873. 
Dear    Madame     Sand, — Flaubert    will    have 
told  you  that  I  could  not  come  till  Monday,  and 
148 


1fMg  jfrencb  Circle 

now  I'm  afraid  I  shall  not  reach  Nohant  before 
Wednesday.  But  when  that  day  comes,  either  I 
shall  be  dead  or  I  shall  be  with  you.  I  humbly 
apologise  for  all  these  delays.  That's  what  comes 
of  having  a  short  thumb,  the  sign  of  a  weak  will. 
I  kiss  your  hand,  and  remain 

Your  devoted 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


VI. 

Maison  Halgan,  Bougival, 

JVednesday,  September  3,  1873. 

Dear  Madame  Sand, — I  need  scarcely  tell 
you,  need  I,  how  delighted  I  am  that  you  like 
my  books  ?  It  will  be  my  greatest  claim  to  fame 
in  the  future,  and  meanwhile  it  gives  me  an  un- 
speakable pleasure. 

If,  as  you  say,  you  often  look  forward  to  our 
coming,  I  can  assure  you  no  one  in  this  house 
thinks  of  anything  but  the  journey  to  Nohant. 
Madame  Viardot  wrote  to  you  the  day  before 
yesterday,  and  is  only  waiting  for  your  answer  to 
fix  the  day  of  our  arrival.  It  will  probably  be  the 
15th.  I  don't  think  Viardot  will  come,  but  Paul 
certainly  will  ;  they  have  promised  to  take  him  if 
he  works  hard  till  then.  And  he'll  carefully  refrain 
from  laziness  in  consequence  ! 

I  shall  only  be  able  to  come  myself  three  or  four 
149 


Uourcméneff  anft 

days  later,  about  the  18th,  for  Flaubert  expects 
me  at  Croisset  on  the  15th  ;  it's  a  promise  of  long 
standing.  I'll  try  and  bring  him  with  me,  but  I 
don't  think  I  shall  succeed  ;  he's  up  to  the  eyes  in 
dramatic  and  literary  work,  and  won't  want  to  tear 
himself  away  from  it. 

The  Carlsbad  waters  have  done  the  greatest 
possible  good  ;  my  gout  is  leaving  me  in  peace  at 
present,  and  I  hope  it  will  not  come  and  spoil  my 
happiness.  Oh  !  what  delightful  days  we  shall 
spend  at  Nohant  ! 

Meanwhile  I  kiss  vour  hand,  and  am,  as  ever, 
Your  devoted 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — Kindest  regards  to  all  the  family. 


VII. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

IVednesday,  April  15,  1874. 
Dear  Madame  Sand, — As  soon  as  I  received 
your  letter  I  wrote  to  our  friend  Planchut,  to  tell 
him  I  should  like  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  M. 
Rollinat.1  I  shall  be  glad  to  put  myself  at  his 
disposal  with  regard  to  anything  he  wants.  I 
have  glanced  through  his  translation,  which  is  a 
very  good  one.      Planchut  will  probably  bring  him 

1  The  author  of  Les  Névroses,  who  was  then  beginning  his  career. 
150 


Ibis  frencb  Circle 

to-morrow  evening.      (Madame  Viardot  is  at  home 
on  Thursday  evenings,  and  they  have  music.) 

What  can  I  sav  of  the  praise  you  have  bestowed 
on  my  Reliques  ? I  It  is  so  magnificently  over- 
whelming that  I  hardly  dare  to  thank  you  for  it, 
but  it  has  made  me  very  happv,  I  can  assure  you  ; 
and  whilst  we  are  on  the  subject,  I  must  tell  you 
something  :  I  had  meant  to  dedicate  the  little  story 
to  you  ;  but  Viardot,  whom  I  consulted  about  it, 
advised  me  to  wait  till  I  had  written  something 
less  insignificant  and  less  unworthy  of  the  great 
name  with  which  I  wanted  to  adorn  it.  I  am 
sorry  now  that  I  didn't  carrv  out  mv  original  idea, 
for  who  knows  what  that  other  thing  may  be 
like  ?  In  any  case,  you  must  give  me  credit  for 
the  intention. 

Planchut  told  us  there  was  a  chance  of  your 
coming  to  Paris  ;  but  as  I  am  starting  for  Russia 
in  three  weeks'  time,  I'm  afraid  I  shall  only  see  you 
next  autumn  at  Nohant.     Well,  I  must  be  patient. 

Kindest  regards  to  all  your  people.  I  kiss  your 
hand. 

Devotedly, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — I  am  sending  you  a  little  barrel  of  oysters  ; 
one  must  take  advantage  of  the  last  month  with 
an  "  r  "  in  it. 

1  Les  Reliques  Vivantes*  the  last  of  Les  Re'cits  d'un  Chasseur,  which 
completed  the  series  written  many  years  before. 

151 


Ttourguéneft  ant> 


VIII. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Saturday ',  April  9,  1875» 

I  am  very  glad,  dear,  kind  Madame  Sand,  that 
your  little  granddaughters  are  pleased  with  my 
toys  and  you  with  my  stories,  and  I  thank  you 
with  all  my  heart  for  telling  me  so  so  prettily. 
The  sight  of  your  handwriting,  too,  made  me  very 
happy,  for  disquieting  rumours  about  your  health 
have  been  going  about  Paris.  "  Even  if  there  has 
been  no  elephant,  there  is,  at  any  rate,  a  fly,"  says 
a  Russian  proverb  ;  and  I  hope  even  the  fly  has 
flown  away  by  now. 

All  here  are  very  well,  and  send  you  their  best 
love  ;  as  for  me,  as  I  must  come  to  Nohant  before 
starting  for  Carlsbad,  I  want  to  know  whether  the 
days  between  the  15th  and  20th  of  April  would 
suit  you  ?  Write  and  say  yes,  or  else  fix  some 
other  date  before  the  1st  of  May. 

You  will  have  seen  our  good  Rollinat,  who  has 
done  with  Buloz.1  Give  my  cordial  regards  to  him, 
and  to  our  faithful  Planchut,  and  to  all  the  household. 
Flaubert  is  working  tremendously  hard  ;  his  face 
is  quite  red  from  it.  He  loves  you  dearly,  and  I, 
too,  love  you  dearly,  and  I  kiss  your  dear  hand, 
and  am  for  ever  Your  faithful 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

1   Buloz  was  at  that  time  editor  of  La  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes. 
152 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

IX. 

BOUGIVAL,  NEAR  PARIS, 

Friday,  August  13,  1875. 

Dear  Madame  Sand, — You  have  so  much  to 
reproach  me  with,  or  rather  I  have  so  much  to 
reproach  myself  with  on  your  account,  that  I  daren't 
even  try  and  make  excuses.  I  can  only  lay  myself 
at  your  feet,  as  the  Russians  used  to  do  in  old  days, 
and  say,  "Here  is  my  head;  cut  it  off!"  But 
as  I  suppose  you  will  let  me  off  this  time,  I  will 
get  up  again  and  tell  you  that  I  have  been  here 
for  the  last  fortnight  with  my  old  friends,  who  are 
all  of  them,  young  and  old,  in  very  good  health, 
and  devoted  to  you. 

All  is  going  on  well  here,  but  there  is  another 
friend  of  ours  who  is,  at  present,  in  a  very  cruel 
plight,  and  whose  letter  I  am  enclosing  for  you  to 
see — and  that  is,  Flaubert.  I  blame  myself  all  the 
more  for  not  having  written  to  you  long  ago, 
because  I  see  he  says  in  his  letter  that  he  constantly 
thinks  of  you.  ...  A  few  lines  from  you  would  do 
him  all  the  good  in  the  world.  And  when  I  think 
that  I  received  that  letter  ten  days  ago,  I  really 
am  furious  with  myself  for  my  laziness  and  selfishness. 

Of  course  I   know  that  in  all  Flaubert  says  there 
is   the  involuntary  exaggeration  of  a  nervous,  im- 
pressionable   man   who    has    been  weakened    by  a 
free-and-easy  life  ;  but  yet  I  feel  that  it  has  been  a 
153 


gcmrguéneg  anft 

blow  to  him,  and  perhaps  even  a  greater  blow  than 
he  himself  is  conscious  or"  at  present.  He  has 
tenacity  without  energy,  just  as  he  has  self-love 
without  vanity.  Misfortune  penetrates  into  his  soul 
as  if  it  were  butter.  I've  asked  him  twice  to  let  me 
come  and  see  him  at  Croisset,  and  he  has  refused. 

In  a  note  I  had  from  him  quite  lately  he  speaks 
of  the  mortal  blow  he  has  received. 

Every  one  here  was  delighted  with  the  photo- 
graphs of  Nohant,  and  of  the  marionettes^  and  of  the 
illustrious  Balandard.     And  yet  I  .  .  . 

But  we'll  say  no  more  about  that,  and  hope  for 
better  times,  if  you'll  still  have  me. 

Best  and  kindest  regards  to  everybody.  I  kiss 
your  hand,  and  am 

Your  devoted 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — Please  send  me  back  Flaubert's  letter. 


x. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Tuesday^  April  4,  1876. 

Dear  Madame  Sand, — I  received  your  book1 

yesterday,  and  found  in    it   many  things    I   didn't 

know    before,  and    thank    you   very  much    for  it. 

We  shall   now   have  something   to  read  out   loud 

1   Le  Chêne  parlant. 

x54 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

which  will  last  us  for  several  evenings,  and  we  shall 
begin  to-night. 

I  am  so  glad  you  liked  my  little  story  in  Le 
Temps  ;  it's  almost  a  child's  tale. x  I  am  now  in 
the  throes  of  bringing  forth  a  great  brute  of  a 
novel,2  but  it  will  only  appear  towards  the  end  of 
the  year,  and  I  shall  not  be  able  to  think  of  much 
else  till  then. 

All  here  are  well  and  send  their  best  love.     I  kiss 
your  hand,  and  am  now  and  ever 
Yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


LETTERS  TO  SAINTE  -  BEUVE, 
THÉOPHILE  GAUTIER,  CHARLES 
EDMOND,  TAINE,  AND  RENAN. 

After  publishing  Tourguéneff's  letters  to  Flau- 
bert and  to  Georges  Sand,  we  will  now  group 
together  all  we  have  been  able  to  collect  of  those 
addressed  to  the  other  guests  of  the  Magny  dinners. 

The  earliest  one  is  to  Sainte-Beuve.  It  is  prob- 
ably the  only  one  to  him,  at  least  so  we  have  been 
told.  And,  indeed,  it  was  written  only  a  few 
months   before   Sainte-Beuve's    death,   and    it    was 

1  La  Montre  (the  story  of  an  olH  man  in  1850). 

2  Terres  Vierges. 

155 


TTourguéneff  anft 

only  in  that  year  (1868)  that  the  intercourse  be- 
tween the  French  critic  and  the  Russian  novelist 
became  more  or  less  constant. 

The  letter  to  Théophile  Gautier  is  also  a  single 
one.  Its  very  tone  convinces  one  that  no  others 
were  ever  written.  Tourguéneff  is  just  starting 
for  a  long  journey  to  Russia,  and  he  expresses  a 
hope  that  he  will  see  more  of  Théophile  Gautier 
the  following  year,  but  for  the  latter  there  was  to 
be  no  "following  year,"  for  he  died  that  same  year 
on  the  20th  of  October,  1872. 

The  relations  between  Tourguéneff  and  both 
Sainte-Beuve  and  Théophile  Gautier  were  in  fact 
so  intermittent,  that  a  prolonged  absence  on  the 
part  of  Tourguéneff  would  inevitably  have  inter- 
rupted all  correspondence  between   them. 

We  are  indebted  for  these  two  interesting 
letters  to  the  kindness  of  M.  le  Vicomte  de 
Spoelberch,  the  eminent  bibliophile. 

The  letters  to  Charles  Edmond  date  from  1872 
to  1880.  They  form  only  a  small  part  of  the 
correspondence  which  took  place  between  the  two 
men.  They  first  met,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
in  1843,  at  the  lectures  given  by  the  philosopher 
Scheeling  at  Berlin,  and  became  more  intimate 
when  Tourguéneff  settled  in  Paris  in  1847.  Only 
trhee  of  these  letters  have  been  kept,  and  we  are 
indebted  to  M.  Jules  Claretie  for  being  able  to 
produce  them. 

156 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Then  follow  four  notes  to  Taine  and  three 
letters  to  Renan,  which  have  been  sent  to  us  by 
the  families  of  these  two  celebrated  writers. 

The  importance  of  this  group  of  letters  does  not 
lie  so  much  in  the  intrinsic  interest  of  any  one  of 
them  as  in  the  fact  that  they  show  us  the  various 
degrees  of  intimacy  which  existed  between  Tour- 
guéneff  and  these  distinguished  representatives  of 
French  letters.  This  is  the  chief  reason  for  their 
publication,  and  I  think  they  should  prove  an 
interesting  chapter  in  the  history  of  the  intel- 
lectual relations  between  France  and  Russia. 


To  Sainte-Beuve. 


Paris,  Hôtel  Byron,  Rue  Laffitte, 

Tuesday,  November  24,  1 868. 

Dear  Sir, — Some  letters  I  have  just  received 
from  Baden  make  it  imperative  for  me  to  leave 
Paris  this  very  evening,  and  prevent  me  from 
having  the  pleasure  of  dining  with  you.  I  need 
hardly  tell  you  how  much  I  regret  this  ;  such  a  lost 
opportunity  seldom  presents  itself  again,  nor  is  one 
easily  consoled  for  its  loss. 

I  ventured  some  time  ago  to  send  you  some  of 
my  works  ;  I  cannot  now  remember  whether  the 
two  volumes  I  am  enclosing  were  amongst  the 
157 


gourguénefl  anft 

number. *  As  you  see  I  am  giving  you  the  benefit 
of  the  doubt  ;  I  am  so  anxious  for  the  honour 
of  being  read  by  you  as  to  run  the  risk  of  seeming 
importunate. 

Please  accept  the  sincere  admiration  of 
Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S.— May  I  say  that  my  address  this  winter 
will  be  :  Carlsruhe,  Grand  Duchy  of  Baden,  poste 
restante. 


To  Théophile  Gautier. 

Paris,  48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday,  May  19,  1872. 

My  dear  Monsieur  Gautier, — As  I  am  on 
the  point  of  starting  on  a  rather  long  journey  to 
Russia,  I  feel  I  should  like  to  tell  you  how  sorry  I 
am  that  we  should  not  have  met  again  since  that 
delightful  dinner  with  our  friend  Flaubert.  I  hope 
I  may  have  better  luck  next  year. 

And  now  may  I  speak  to  you  about  something 
else  ?  In  my  first  visit  to  the  Salon  I  fell  in  love 
with  a  picture  by  Blanchard  (No.  149,  with  the 
exceedingly  bad  title  of  Courtisane),  and  I  must  say, 
though  I  have  bought  it,  that  it  seems  to  me  the 
most  beautiful  woman's  figure  in  the  whole  Salon. 

1  One  of  these  must  have  been  Fumée,  which  was  translated  into 
French  that  year,  1868. 

158 


Ibis  jftencb  Circle 

But  I  appear  to  be  the  only  person  of  this  opinion. 
No  one  mentions  it.  The  ladies  think  it  ugly,  &c. 
I  confess  this  worries  me  a  little.  I  need  hardly 
tell  you  that  I  am  not  writing  to  beg  you  to  puff 
it  for  me  ;  I  simply  want  your  opinion  of  it,  for 
with  all  your  indulgence  I  realise  the  master  in  you 
with  regard  to  criticism  as  well  as  literature. 

If  you  don't  answer  me  I  shall  know  what  you 
think  of  it.  I  am  very  fond  of  my  poor  neglected 
picture,  and  shall  go  on  being  fond  of  it,  in  spite 
of  everything.  But  your  approbation  would  be  a 
great  encouragement  to  me. 

I  must  apologise  for  bothering  you  in  this  way, 
but  I  hope  you  know  me  well  enough  to  feel  that 
nothing  need  prevent  you  from  simply  dismissing 
this  letter  and  my  request  from  your  mind  without 
any  misgiving.  If  you  did  so  it  would  in  no  wise 
alter  the  very  warm  regard  in  which  you  are  held 
by  Yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


To  Charles  Edmond. 
i. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Friday ,  November  22,  1872. 
My  dear  Sir, — -I  proceed  to  plunge  at  once  in 
médias    res^    and    ask    you    without    further   parley 
Ï59 


gourguénefi  anft 

whether  you  know  Nubar  Pasha,  and  whether  it's 
true  that  he  is  looking  out  for  a  governess  to  take 
back  to  Egypt.  If  so,  I  should  like  to  recommend 
a  fellow-countrywoman  of  mine,  who  is  young, 
well-educated,  refined,  and  who  speaks  three 
languages  perfectly. 

I  would  have  come  myself  to  see  you,  were  it  not 
for  a  horrible  attack  of  gout,  which  has  lasted  for 
months,  and  confines  me  to  my  room. 

If  you  should  wish  for  further  information  about 
the  person  I  speak  of,  let  me  know,  and  I  will  put 
myself  entirely  at  your  disposal. 

I  hope  you  are  well  and  are  not  troubled  by  gout, 
the  most  unbearable,  intolerable,  and  least  interesting 
of  all  ailments.     Believe  me, 

Very  cordially  yours, 

I\r.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


II. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Saturday,  November  30,  1872. 
Dear  Monsieur  Charles  Edmond, — Hetzel, 
who  wants  to  publish  my  productions,  has  asked 
me  for  that  little  story  which  appeared  in  Le  Temps. 
I  haven't  got  it.  I've  written  to  Hébrard,  begging 
him  to  send  it  to  me  ;  but  he  has  other  fish  to  fry 
at  present,  and  nothing  has  come.  Will  you  be 
kind  enough  to  come  to  my  help  ?  If  necessary  I 
160 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

would  have  the  three  feuilletons  copied,  but  even 
then  I  should  require  the  printed  copy.  (It  appeared 
in  the  beginning  of  this  year.1) 

I  most  sincerely  apologise  for  bothering  you,  but 
it  would  be  really  kind  of  you  to  help  me. 

Meanwhile  I  remain, 

Very  cordially  yours, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


III. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday,  "January  15,  1880. 

I  am  writing  to  you  because  of  the  difficulty  of 
getting  an  answer  out  of  M.  Hébrard. 

Here  is  the  matter  in  question  :  you  may 
perhaps  remember  a  Russian  story  (called,  if  I 
remember  rightly,  Souvenirs  de  la  Ninania)  which 
was  sent,  through  me,  to  the  editor  of  Le  Te?nps 
nearly  three  months  ago.  The  authoress  is  anxious 
to  know  whether  it  has  been  accepted  or  not. 

I  am  leaving  Paris  in  five  or  six  days  on  rather  a 
long  journey.     Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  have 

1  It  is  impossible  to  say  what  story  is  referred  to  in  this  letter. 
None  of  Tourguéneff's  works  appeared  in  Le  Temps,  either  in  1871 
or  1872.  Either  this  letter  is  wrongly  dated,  or  else  there  was  a 
confusion  in  his  mind  and  he  meant  Le  Roi  Lear  de  la  Steppe,  which 
was  published  in  La  Re-vue  des  Deux  Mondes  on  the  15th  of  March, 
1872.  Or  if,  as  we  believe,  this  letter  was  really  written  in  1874,  then 
he  must  have  referred  to  Reliques  Vivantes,  published  in  Le  Temps 
on  the  8th  of  April,  1874. 

l6l  M 


gonrguéneff  ano 

the  story  sent  back  to  the  authoress  if  Le  Temps 
does  not  want  it  ;  or  if  Le  Temps  does  accept  it,  to 
let  her  have  the  proofs  ?  She  and  I  would  both  be 
most  grateful  to  you. 

Here  is  her  address  :  Madame  Adelaide  Loukanine, 
Rue  Thénard,  à  la  librairie  Swédenborgienne. 
Believe  me, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


To   HlPPOLYTE  TaINE. 
I. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Thursday  Morning. 

Dear  Monsieur  Taine, — I  am  going  to  appeal 
to  your  kindness,  and  must  begin  by  apologising  for 
so  doing.  Here  is  what  I  mean.  We  have  just 
been  sent  a  box  for  to-night  (for  Les  Misérables), 
and  as  I  am  at  present  the  only  man  in  this  house 
who  is  going  out  in  the  evenings,  it  is  my  business 
to  take  the  ladies  there.  Would  you  be  kind 
enough  to  put  off  our  meeting  to  some  other  day  ? 
I  leave  it  absolutely  to  you  to  choose  both  the  day 
and  the  hour. 

If  this  puts  you  to  the  slightest  inconvenience  I 
most  sincerely  apologise. 

162 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

A  bientôt,  I  hope — meanwhile  please  accept  my 
best  regards. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 

II. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Friday,  March  22,  1878. 

Dear  Monsieur  Taine, — I  must  begin  by 
thanking  you  for  La  Révolution,  which  I  have  just 
received,  and  which  I  am  going  to  begin  reading  at 
once. 

As  to  the  other  subject  of  your  letter  (which  I 
have  destroyed  as  you  wished  me  to  do),  you  have 
set  me  thinking  !  Though  I  am  not  altogether  of 
your  opinion,  I  feel  that  at  bottom  you  are  quite 
right,  that  you  have  only  given  expression  to  certain 
ideas  which  were  latent  in  me,  and  that  our  very 
friendship  for  F.1  carries  with  it  certain  duties  which 
may  possibly  be  painful  ones. 

I  should  like  to  have  a  good  talk  with  you  before 
making  up  my  mind.  Tell  me  what  day  and  at 
what  time  I  may  come  and  see  you  after  Wednesday. 
I  am  entirely  at  your  disposal,  and  perhaps  we  may 
come  to  some  decision. 

I  shall  await  your  answer,  and  beg  to  remain, 
Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 

1  Flaubert. 
163 


TToutfluéneff  anft 

Madame  Taine  thinks  that  this  letter  refers 
to  some  interviews  which  took  place  between 
Tourguéneff  and  Taine,  who  were  both  great 
friends  of  Flaubert's,  for  the  purpose  of  discussing 
what  means  they  could  adopt  to  induce  Flaubert 
to  give  up  his  novel,  Bouvard  et  Pécuchet.  Taine, 
as  well  as  Tourguéneff,  looked  upon  Madame  Bovary 
as  the  literary  masterpiece  of  this  century,  and  the 
difficulties  which  Flaubert  felt  over  his  new  book 
made  them  fear  that  it  would  be  very  inferior  to 
his  former  works. 

in. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Friday,  March  9. 
My  dear  Monsieur  Taine, — After  a  bad 
bout  of  toothache,  followed  by  neuralgic  pains  in 
my  head,  which  have  almost  driven  me  mad,  I  have 
developed  such  a  fearfully  swollen  face  that  I  am 
not  fit  to  be  seen.  I  am  doubtful  whether  it  will 
have  time  to  go  down  before  to-morrow,  and  I  feel 
I  ought  to  let  you  know.  If  I  am  not  with  you 
punctuallv  to-morrow  it  will  mean  that  I  simply 
can't  show  my  face.  I  need  hardly  tell  you  how 
sorry  I  shall  be. 

I  daren't  say  a  demain,  but  I  will  do  my  very  best, 
and  meanwhile  I  remain, 

Very  cordially  yours, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 
164 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 


IV. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday,  "January  20. 
My  dear  Taine  (I  may  drop  the  Monsieur, 
mayn't  I  ?  ), — I  have  made  the  most  of  the  enforced 
idleness  imposed  upon  me  by  an  attack  of  gout  to 
read  your  book,  and  I  hope  you  will  accept  my  most 
sincere  congratulations.  It  is  a  masterpiece,  and 
even  those  who  have  attacked  it  will  be  glad  to 
make  great  use  of  it.  You  have  done  something 
which  will  live  and  which  will  be  useful — two 
things  which  do  not  always  go  hand-in-hand. 

If  I  can  get  out  on  Tuesday    I'll  look   in  and 
have  a  talk  with  you. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


To  Ernest  Renan. 

1. 

Les  Frênes  Chalet,  Bougival, 

Tuesday,  November  18,  1 879. 
Dear  Monsieur  Renan, — I  received  the  en- 
closed  paper    a    long  time  ago,   but  as  you   were 
away   travelling,  I   thought  it  best  to  await  your 
return.     The    questions  are   put   by  one    of  your 
165 


ZTourgueneff  anft 

greatest  admirers,  an  ex-Minister  of  Public  In- 
struction in  Russia.  Would  you  be  kind  enough 
simply  to  put  the  names  in  the  margin — if  you  have 
no  objection — and  to  send  me  back  the  paper  to  50, 
Rue  de  Douai  ?  My  correspondent  would  be  greatly 
obliged  to  you,  and  so  should  I. 

I  am  still  in  the  country  and  am  finishing  your 
last  volume.1  You  have  helped  to  make  the  deli- 
cate and  difficult  matters  of  which  you  treat  clear 
to  my  mind.  I  hardly  know  which  to  admire 
most,  the  subtlety  or  the  truth  of  your  psycho- 
logical analysis,  if  I  may  call  it  so,  of  the  gradual 
organisation  of  the  Church. 

Please  accept  my  respectful  admiration,  and 
believe  me,  dear  Monsieur  Renan, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Iv.   TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.S. — Under  the  paper  cover  you  will  find  some 
guesses,  which  I  believe  are  correct — such  as  Victor 
Hugo,  for  instance,  with  regard  to  the  first  extract 
— but  we  want  to  be  certain. 


II. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

March  24,  1882. 
My  dear  Master, — You  were  kind  enough  to 
send  me  a  ticket  for  the  sitting  of  the  Academy  ; 

1  L'Eg/ise  Chrétienne. 
l66 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

unfortunately,  I  was  not  able  to  make  use  of  it,  for 
I  had  a  dreadful  toothache  which  is  still  very  bad. 
But  I  must  thank  you  for  so  kindly  thinking  of  me. 
Believe  me, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Iv.   TOURGUENEFF. 


III. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

[No  date.] 
Dear  Monsieur  Renan, — This  letter  will  be 
brought  to  you  by  M.  E.  Boyeren,  a  very  distin- 
guished American  writer,  who  has  come  to  Europe 
in  order  to  study  the  Universities  of  the  various 
countries,  and  to  write  a  special  work  on  the  subject. 
Leaving  on  one  side  his  very  natural  wish  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  a  man  like  yourself,  I  ventured 
to  assure  him  that  you  would  be  kind  enough  to 
give  him  some  valuable  advice  as  to  his  best  method 
of  obtaining  the  necessary  information — a  thing  he 
finds  much  harder  to  do  here  than  in  Italy  or 
Germany.  I  hope  you  will  receive  him  with  your 
usual  kindness,  and  beg  to  remain, 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


167 


ZEourguéneg jnfr 
LETTERS   TO   EMILE   ZOLA. 

According  to  Zola's  Souvenirs^  it  was  towards 
the  beginning  of  1872  that  he  met  Tourguéneff  for 
the  first  time  at  the  house  of  Gustave  Flaubert,  who 
was  then  living  in  a  flat  at  4,  Rue  Murillo,  the 
windows  of  which  looked  out  over  the  Parc  Monceau. 
It  was  at  the  same  time  and  place  that  Alphonse 
Daudet  made  the  Russian  author's  acquaintance. 
Although  in  his  article  on  Tourguéneff,  which 
appeared  in  the  Century  Magazine  in  the  course  of 
the  year  1880,  the  author  of  Le  Nabab  fixes  this 
meeting  as  having  taken  place  somewhere  about 
1868  or  1870.  It  is  clear  that  Zola  and  Daudet 
could  not  have  known  Tourguéneff  before  the  war — 
not  in  fact  before  1872  at  the  earliest.  It  is  true 
that  Goncourt,  who  was  a  regular  guest  at  the 
Magny  dinners,  mentions  Touguéneff  for  the  first 
time  on  the  date  of  February  23,  1863,  but  this 
was  only  a  first  and  casual  meeting  with  Ed.  de 
Goncourt  only.1  After  that  the  Goncourt  Journal 
only  mentions  Tourguéneff's  name  in  March,  1872, 
and  then  only  as  one  of  Flaubert's  guests  together 
with  Théophile  Gautier.  From  other  sources  we 
know  that  Tourguéneff,  having  left  Paris  in  1870, 
only  came  back  at  the   end   of   1871.     Zola  and 

1  Zola  and  Daudet,  who  were  both  born  in  1840,  were  only  twenty- 
two  at  the  time,  and  had  not  yet  published  any  of  the  works  which 
made  them  famous. 

l68 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Goncourt  could,  therefore,  only  have  met  him  at 
Flaubert's  after  his  return. 

But  there  was  no  regular  intercourse  between 
them  until  the  year  1874,  when  they  first  began  to 
meet  at  those  "Diners  des  Cinq"  ("Dinners  of 
Five"),  to  which  I  have  already  referred.  Goncourt, 
moreover,  fixes  the  date  of  the  beginning  of  these 
dinners  for  us.  "  Dinner  at  Riche's,"  he  writes  on 
the  14th  of  April,  1874,  "with  Flaubert,  Tour- 
guéneff,  Zola,  and  Alphonse  Daudet — a  dinner  of 
men  of  talent  with  a  mutual  respect  for  one  another, 
and  which  we  hope  to  make  a  monthly  affair  in  the 
coming  winter."  From  then  onwards,  in  fact,  they 
met  regularly,  first  at  the  Café  Riche,  and  later  on, 
up  to  Tourguéneff's  death  in  1883,  at  a  restaurant 
in  the  Rue  Favart,  opposite  the  Opéra  Comique. 
It  is  true  that  after  1880,  the  year  of  Flaubert's 
death,  there  were  only  four  of  them  left.  There 
were  only  three,  even,  when  Daudet  wrote  his 
article  in  the  Century  Magazine  ;  for  Tourguéneff 
had  already  been  seized  by  that  implacable  illness 
which  never,  from  that  time  onwards,  gave  him  a 
moment's  respite,  and  which  carried  him  off"  two 
years  later.  Daudet,  in  fact,  ends  his  article  with 
this  sentence:  "Alas!  for  the  Flaubert  dinners! 
We  began  them  again  the  other  day  and  there  were 
only  three  of  us  left  ;  now,  since  Goncourt's  death, 
there  would  only  be  two." 


169 


TTourguéneff  anft 

So  long  as  he  lived  Tourguéneff  maintained 
the  most  cordial  relations  with  the  other  guests  at 
the  Flaubert  dinners.  We  have  already  referred  to 
the  brotherly  affection  which  bound  him  to  Flau- 
bert :  he  became  an  equally  sincere  friend  of  Zola's 
from  the  time  of  their  first  meeting.  Zola  was 
not  at  that  time  the  famous  author  we  all  know 
now  ;  he  was  passing  through  the  hard  days  of  his 
early  struggles  ;  he  had  just  published  La  Fortune 
des  Rougon,  the  first  volume  in  that  Rougon  Macquart 
series  which  was  destined  to  mark  an  epoch  in 
contemporary  literature.  He  found  in  Tourguéneff 
an  indefatigable  admirer  and  propagandist  of  his 
work,  and  it  was  owing  to  him  that  he  won  fame  in 
Russia  before  winning  it  in  France. 

In  an  interview  with  M.  Jules  Huret,  which 
appeared  in  the  Figaro,  Zola  recalls  the  fact  that  it 
was  Tourçruéneff  who  introduced  him  to  the  Russian 
public  at  the  most  critical  moment  of  his  literary 
career.  "  Le  Corsaire"  he  says,  "for  which  I'd  been 
writing,  had  just  been  suppressed  bv  the  Duc  de 
Broglie  on  account,  if  you  please,  of  an  article  of 
mine  called  '  The  Day  after  the  Crisis.'  Not  a  single 
newspaper  opened  its  columns  to  me  ;  I  was  starving 
with  hunger  ;  mud  was  being  thrown  at  me  from 
all  sides.  It  was  then  that  he  introduced  me  to 
that  great  Russian  public  with  whom  I've  ever 
since  been  very  popular."  l     We  may  add  that  La 

1   See  the  Figaro  of  November   5,   1893. 
170 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Faute  de  C Abbé  Mouret  was  published  in  Russian 
before  it  appeared  in  French. 

Tourguéneff  showed  what  he  thought  of  the 
talent  of  his  other  friends  belonging  to  the  realistic 
school — Goncourt,  Daudet,  and  Maupassant — by 
recommending  their  books  and  by  his  personal 
efforts  to  place  them  in  Russian  newspapers  and 
reviews. 

So  much  for  him,  then,  as  a  literary  comrade. 
Here  is  what  Zola  says  of  him  as  a  man  in  the 
interview  quoted  above.  "  I  had  a  great  affection 
for  Tourguéneff,  and  he  had  the  same  for  me.  He 
was  a  being  of  great  rarity,  with  a  mind  distin- 
guished for  fairness  and  honesty,  but  not  without  a 
touch  of  caprice." 

Goncourt,  in  his  journal,  and  Daudet,  in  his 
article,  speak  sympathetically  of  Tourguéneff  in 
their  turn,  the  former  calling  him  "the  gentle  giant, 
the  kind  barbarian,"  the  latter  recalling  the  sincerity 
of  the  friendship  between  them.  "  He  was  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  writers  of  the  century,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  most  honest,  straightforward, 
universally  sincere  and  affectionate  man  one  could 
possibly  meet," — such  is  the  beginning  of  the 
article  which  Tourguéneff's  death  drew  from  Mau- 
passant. And  further  on  he  says  again  :  "He 
was  simplicity  itself,  kind  and  honest  to  excess, 
more  good-natured  than  any  one  in  the  world, 
affectionate  as  men  rarely  are,  and  loyal  to  his  friends, 
171 


ZTourQueneff  anfr 

whether  living  or  dead."  And  he  ends  by  saying, 
"  No  more  candid,  cultivated,  penetrating  spirit,  no 
more  charming  talent,  no  more  loyal,  generous 
heart  than  his,  ever  existed." 

This  was  how  Tourguéneff  was  regarded  by 
those  who  came  into  closest  contact  with  him,  and 
even  those  who,  like  myself,  only  had  rare  oppor- 
tunities of  meeting  him,  could  not  fail  to  be  struck 
by  the  candour  of  his  face  and  the  gentleness  of 
his  expression. 


But  now  some  so-called  "revelations,"  published 
several  years  after  TourguenefPs  death,  have  thrown 
a  disagreeable  shadow  over  his  memory. 

We  have  several  times  quoted  from  the  friendly 
pages  devoted  by  Daudet  to  Tourguéneff.  The 
time  has  now  come  to  quote  the  postscript  which 
he  added  when  the  article  came  to  be  published  in 
book  form. 

"Just  as  I  was  correcting  the  proofs  of  this 
article,  which  appeared  some  years  ago,  some  one 
handed  me  a  volume  of  Souvenirs,  in  which  Tour- 
guéneff, from  the  depths  of  the  grave,  attacks  me 
in  fine  fashion.  As  an  author  I  am  beneath  con- 
tempt, as  a  man  the  worst  of  men.  And  my 
friends,  moreover,  know  this  quite  well  and  tell 
beautiful  tales  at  my  expense  !  What  friends  can 
Tourguéneff  be  speaking  of,  and  how  is  it  they've 


1btg jfrencb  Circle 

remained  my  friends  since  they  know  me  so 
well  ?  And  who  forced  him,  the  worthy  Slav 
himself,  into  this  pretence  of  friendship  for  me? 
I  can  see  him  now  as  he  used  to  be,  in  my  house 
and  at  my  table — gentle,  affectionate,  caressing  my 
children.  I  have  letters  from  him  of  a  cordial  and 
exquisite  kind,  and  this  is  what  was  underneath 
that  pleasant  smile  of  his  all  the  time!  Heavens! 
What  a  singular  thing  life  is,  and  how  true  is  that 
charming  Greek  word  Erpovua  ! 

This  postscript  gave  rise  at  the  time  of  its  pub- 
lication (in  1888)  to  lengthy  comments  and  much 
animated  discussion,  not  only  in  the  French  and 
Russian  press,  but  in  all  those  countries  where  both 
Tourguéneff  and  Daudet  possess  numerous  friends 
and  admirers.  Russians  were  astonished  that  the 
author  of  Le  Nabab  should  have  given  any  credence 
to  the  so-called  revelations  of  an  unknown  indi- 
vidual who  had  endeavoured  to  attain  an  unenviable 
notoriety  by  calumniating  the  great  Russian  writer. 
This  calumny  was  all  the  more  odious  from  the 
fact  that  it  was  the  work  of  one  of  TourguenefPs 
numerous  proteges,  and  that  it  appeared  at  a  time 
when  its  object  could  no  longer  expose  its  falsity. 
This  fact  alone  should  have  put  Alphonse  Daudet 
on  his  guard  against  the  "  revelations  "  of  the  author 
of  these  Reeolleetions  of  Tourguéneff.  And  besides 
this,  if  the  long  years  of  friendship  which  had  bound 
the  Russian  author  and  himself  to  one  another,  and 
173 


tToutQueneff  anft 

the  many  tokens  of  sincerity  he  had  received  in 
their  course,  had  no  weight  with  him,  ought  he  not 
at  least  to  have  listened  to  the  irreproachable  testi- 
mony of  the  many  men  who  had  known  Tourgue- 
neff  intimately  in  P>ance,  in  Russia,  in  Germany, 
and  in  England  ?  What  motive  could  Tourguéneff 
have  had  for  playing  the  hypocrite  to  such  an 
extent  as  to  draw  from  Zola,  Goncourt,  Maupassant, 
and  even  Daudet  himself,  those  posthumous  eulo- 
giums  upon  his  loyalty  and  straightforwardness 
from  which  we  have  just  quoted  ? 

Zola,  who  was  also  attacked  in  these  same  Re- 
collections of  Tourguéneff,  has  shown  less  sensitiveness, 
though  he  too  appears  to  have  paid  some  credence 
to  the  remarks  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  dead 
writer.  In  his  conversation  with  M.  Jules  Huret, 
from  which  we  quoted  above,  he  says  : — 

"  He  has  been  accused  of — well,  of  having 
criticised  us  rather  severely  in  some  letters  written 
to  his  friends  in  Russia.  He  certainly  expressed 
himself  rather  crudely  with  regard  to  Goncourt 
and  Daudet,  declaring  himself  unable  to  understand 
anything  of  Goncourt's  great  refinement  of  style, 
and  holding  Daudet's  art  to  be  somewhat  limited. 
He  even  repeated  a  good  deal  of  common  gossip 
and  some  disagreeable  stories.  Daudet  was  much 
distressed  by  these  revelations.  Clearly  Tourguéneff" 
did  wrong  to  concern  himself  with  people's  private 
lives  in  order  to  criticise  their  work,  still  it  must  be 
174 


Tbig  f  tench  Circle 

admitted  that  an  author  always  has  the  right,  what- 
ever may  be  the  closeness  of  his  literary  friendships,  to 
keep  his  private  opinion  untouched  thereby.  One's 
book  comes  out  and  one's  friends  say  to  one,  '  It's 
very  good.'  Surely  one  isn't  so  simple  as  to  think 
that  is  their  final  opinion  ?  and,  really,  is  one  justified 
in  feeling  aggrieved  with  them  if,  afterwards,  in 
their  talk  or  in  their  letters,  they  express  their 
exact,  critical — in  a  word,  genuine — opinion  of  your 
work  ?     Can  one  call  that  treachery  ?  " 

This  large-minded,  peaceable  point  of  view  on 
the  part  of  Zola  is  all  the  more  remarkable  because 
he  believes  not  only  in  certain  hearsay  tales,  which 
after  all  are  always  disputable,  but  also  in  an 
opinion  expressed  by  Tourguéneff  himself  in  some 
letters  written  to  his  Russian  friends.  We  find 
this  conviction  equally  present  with  Daudet  in  the 
conversation  he  had  with  M.  Jules  Huret,  and 
which  was  the  foundation  of  the   Figaro  article. 

"  Yes,  I  regarded  myself  as  that  man's  friend.  I 
was  very  fond  of  him,  I  even  wrote,  after  his  death, 
a  sketch  of  him  for  an  American  review,  and  I  was 
just  going  to  insert  it  in  Trente  Ans  de  Paris  when 
I  was  handed  some  letters  of  his  abusing  me  as  one 
would  not  even  abuse  a  murderer." 

I  am  compelled   to  believe  that  here  M.  Jules 
Huret's  memory  has  failed  him.    The  eminent  sub- 
ject of  his  interview  may  very  likely  have  referred 
to  these  letters,  but  he  could  not  have  spoken  of 
175 


tTourguéneff  anb 

having  actually  seen  them.  I  have  myself  had 
several  talks  with  Alphonse  Daudet  on  this  head, 
and  one  of  them  I  reported  in  a  Russian  news- 
paper 1  at  the  time  when  the  incident  occurred. 
There  was  certainly  a  good  deal  of  talk  about  these 
letters  of  Tourgueneff's,  and  Daudet  even  named 
to  me  the  person  to  whom  the  one  containing  the 
incriminating  remarks  was  addressed  ;  but  he  never 
told  me  he  had  seen  them  himself.  Here- — to  quote 
from  my  article  in  the  Novosti — are  Daudet's  own 
words,  which  I  noted  down  almost  immediately  after 
he  had  uttered  them  : — 

"  My  indignation  would  be  unaccountable  if  I 
only  knew  of  Tourgueneff's  disloyalty  through  his 
protege's  Souvenirs;  but  those  revelations  have  been 
confirmed  for  me  by  Robert  Caze,  who  has  read 
Tourgueneff's  letters  to  Sacher-Mazoch,  in  which 
he  spoke  of  me  in  a  far  from  friendly  wav." 

It  is,  therefore,  Robert  Caze  and  not  Daudet 
himself,  as  M.  Jules  Huret  believed,  who  has  seen 
the  famous  letters.  Daudet  was  even  assured  they 
were  on  the  point  of  being  published  in  a  Russian 
newspaper. 

Years  have  passed,  and  this  publication  has  not 
yet  taken  place.  There  is  an  excellent  reason  for 
this  fact,  which  is  that  these  letters  never  existed. 
Quite  recently  I  had  occasion  to  go  to  Germany 
and  talk  over  this  subject  with  Tourgueneff's  oldest 

1  The  Novosti  of  the  I  —  i  3th  of  March,  1S89. 
176 


1bi3  jfreucb  Circle 

and  most  intimate  friends,  such  as  the  eminent 
critic  Pietsch  and  his  learned  confrere  Zabel.  And 
what  was  the  result  ?  They  assured  me  that  not 
only  did  Tourguéneff  never  write  to  Sacher- 
Mazoch,  not  only  had  he  never  known  him,  but 
that  he  always  vehemently  refused  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  him.  And  this  is  confirmed  by  a 
letter  written  to  M.  Souvorine,  editor  of  the  Novate 
Vrémia,  in  which  he  says,  speaking  of  Sacher- 
Mazoch  : — 

"  I  don't  know  him  personally,  and  I  must 
confess  I  am  no  great  admirer  of  his  novels.  I 
have  never  been  able  to  understand  wherein  I  could 
be  compared  with  him." 

Here,  then,  is  the  very  foundation  of  the  whole 
matter  in  ruins.  It  never  rested,  in  fact,  upon 
anything  but  a  lie,  and  it  is  really  impossible  to 
understand  what  can  be  the  motive  of  certain 
people  in  thus  sullying  the  memory  of  a  great  and 
good  man  in  the  eyes  of  his  most  intimate  friends. 

This,  then,  is  the  history  of  these  imaginary 
letters,  which  have  given  to  Les  Souvenirs  sur  Tour- 
guéneff an  importance  that,  granted  the  personality 
of  their  author,  they  could  never  have  attained  by 
themselves. 

But,  it  may  be  said,  if  these  letters  were  not 
written  to  Sacher-Mazoch,  might  they  not  have 
been  written  to  some  one  else — to  his  Russian 
friends,  for  instance,  as  Zola  supposes  ?     Emphati- 

I77  N 


TEouvfluenetE  an^ 

cally  No.  Amongst  the  thousands  of  letters  of 
Tourguéneff  to  his  Russian  friends,  published  or 
unpublished,  which  I  had  occasion  to  go  through 
with  a  view  to  my  present  publication,  I  found 
nothing  which  could  justify  the  assertions  of  his 
enemies,  except,  perhaps,  this  one  passage  in  a 
letter  addressed  on  November  25,  1875,  to  M. 
Saltykov  *:  — 

"  It  is  said  that  whenever  Peter  the  Great  met 
with  an  intelligent  man  he  used  to  kiss  him  on  the 
forehead.  Although  I  am  neither  Peter  nor  Great, 
I  longed  to  embrace  you,  my  dear  friend,  after 
having  read  your  letter  of  the  18th  of  November, 
so  struck  was  I  by  the  truth  of  all  you  said  about 
Goncourt's  and  Zola's  novels.  I  have  been  feeling  it 
vaguely  myself;  it  was  a  kind  of  indefinable  dis- 
comfort, and  it  is  only  this  very  day  that  I  have  been 
able  to  understand  and  say,  c  Of  course  ;  that's  it  !  ' 
It  is  not  talent  that  they  lack,  especially  Zola  ;  but 
they  are  not  on  the  right  track,  and  their  imagina- 
tion runs  away  with  them.  Their  work  reeks  of 
the  lamp.  There  lies  its  defect.  But  it  is  clear 
that  at  the  present  moment  this  is  what  our  Russian 
public  like,  and  although  one  oughtn't  blindly  to 
encourage  this  taste,  neither  ought  one  to  forget 
that  novels  are  not  written  for  us,  and  that  what 

1  A  celebrated  Russian  satirist,  known  by  the  pseudonym  Stche- 
drine,  who  was  at  this  time  editor-in-chief  of  the  St.  Petersburg 
review  La  Annales  de  la  Patrie. 

I78 


Ibis  jfrencb  circle 

may  seem  to  us  too  highly  spiced  seems  to  the  public 
as  fresh  as  newly  fallen  snow.  So  let's  wait  for  the 
opinion  of  the  editors  of  Les  Annales  de  la  Patrie. 

"  The  subject  of  Goncourt's  novel  is  a  sufficiently 
bold  one.  It  is  a  conscientious  and  exhaustive  study 
of  the  life  of  a  street- walker.1  Anyway,  it  doesn't 
equal  Dostoievsky's  Adolescent.  On  receipt  of  the 
last  number  of  Les  Annales  de  la  Patrie,  I  plunged 
into  that  chaos  of  a  book.  Heavens  !  what  mud, 
what  hospital  stench,  what  futile  repetition,  what  a 
mania  for  sickly  psychology  !  !  That's  the  sort  of 
book  to  which  all  that  you  say  in  your  letter  about 
this  style  of  literature  applies  word  for  word." 

The  reader  will  see,  to  begin  with,  that  there  is 
here  no  question  of  Daudet  ;  moreover,  Tourgué- 
neff  seems  rather  to  be  defending  his  quite  new 
French  friends  against  the  criticisms  of  his  corre- 
spondent. I  use  the  words  "quite  new"  because 
this  letter  belongs  to  the  year  1875,  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  meetings  of  "  the  Five  "  had  only 
just  been  arranged.  Besides,  the  expression  "smell- 
ing, reeking  of  the  lamp  "  is  a  familiar  expression 
of  Tourguéneff's,  and  we  find  him  elsewhere  apply- 
ing it  to  his  own  works.  For  instance,  take  this 
passage  from  his  letter  to  Annenkov  : — 

"  I   have  read   Avdeïev's  -    novel    in    the  Revue 

1  La  Filh  Elise. 

2  Avdeïev  is  a  novelist  who  has  had  in  his  day  a  certain  vogue  in 
Russia.  The  novel  of  which  he  speaks  is  called  Entre  deux  feux,  an.d 
appeared  in  the  Re-vue  Moderne  at  St.  Petersburg  in  1868. 

179 


TTcmrfltténeff  anft 

Moderne.  It's  bad,  very  bad,  and  I  have  been  all 
the  more  disagreeably  impressed  by  it  from  the  fact 
that  I  cannot  help  recognising  in  it  a  certain  imita- 
tion of  my  own  manner,  so  much  so  as  to  make 
me  more  conscious  of  my  own  imperfections.  I 
think  if  I  had  to  read  many  of  Avdeïev's  works  I 
should  throw  away  my  pen  in  disgust.  Oh,  this 
literature  that  smells  of  the  lamp  !  The  principal 
quality  of  Tolstoi's  work  is  precisely  that  it  breathes 
of  life  itself." 

I  must  confess,  however,  that  if  in  the  course  ot 
my  long  investigations  I   had  come  across  some  ill- 
natured  phrase  of  TourguénefFs  at  the  expense  of 
his  French  friends,   I   should   not  have  been  alto- 
gether surprised,  considering  his  highly  impression- 
able  temperament   and   the  exceedingly  precarious 
state  of  his  health,  especially  during  the  last  ten  years 
of  his  life.     Generally  speaking,  the  remarks  made 
among  an  intimate  circle  of  friends,  or  in  the  course 
of  an  entirely  private  correspondence,  are  nothing 
but  the  spontaneous  expression  of  an  opinion  which 
is  often  liable  to  change.    For  instance,  in  this  same 
letter,    we    have    seen    what    Tourguéneff  says    of 
Dostoievsky's     Adolescent.       And     yet     when     M. 
Durand-Greville,  charged  by  the  Revue  des   Deux 
Mondes  with  the  study  of  the  principal  representa- 
tives of  Russian  literature,  betook  himself  to  Russia 
with  this  end  in  view,  Tourguéneff,  on  being  con- 
sulted by  him,  pointed  out  to  him  before  all  others 
180 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Tolstoi,  Pisemsky,  and  Dostoievsky,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  the  latter  had  made  a  violent  attack  upon 
him  in  his  novel  Les  Possèdes.  Moreover,  he  gave 
M.  Durand-Gréville  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
Dostoievsky  in  which  he  said  : — 

"  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  write  to  you  in 
spite  of  the  circumstances  which  caused  the  cessa- 
tion of  all  intercourse  between  us.  You  must,  I 
feel  sure,  be  aware  that  those  circumstances  could 
not  in  any  way  influence  my  opinion  of  your  great 
talent,  nor  of  the  high  place  which  you  rightly 
occupy  in  our  literature." 

In  another  letter  to  M.  Annenkov,  one  of  his 
most  intimate  friends,  dated  1st  of  April,  1865,  he 
says,  speaking  of  La  Guerre  et  la  Paix  : — 

"I  have  read  Leon  Tolstoi's  novel  .  .  .  no,  no, 
that's  not  the  way,  that's  not  the  way  !  However, 
we'll  talk  it  over." 

It  is  true  that  at  that  time  he  had  only  read  the 
first  part  of  the  novel,  and  everywhere  else,  in  all 
his  writings,  private  or  public,  Tourguéneff  shows 
himself  always  as  Tolstoi's  passionate  admirer. 
Here,  for  instance,  is  an  opinion  upon  the  same 
novel,  La  Guerre  et  la  Paixy  in  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Polonsky  : — 

"  Tolstoi's  novel  is  an  admirable  piece  of  work, 

but  what  the  public  admires  in  it  is  precisely  what 

is  weakest  in   it,  viz.,  the  historical   part  and  the 

psychology.     His  history  is  a  sham,  an  ostentatious 

181 


tlourauëneff  anft 

display  of  learning  by  dint  of  introducing  the 
smallest  details  ;  his  psychology  nothing  but  mono- 
tonous repetition.  On  the  other  hand,  everything 
that  has  to  do  with  manners,  description,  war,  is 
quite  first-rate,  and  we  have  no  master  comparable 
to  Tolstoi." 

We  have  also  seen  that  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
Flaubert  (see  page  93)  Tourguéneff  does  not  seem 
"  enchanted  "  with  U Assommoir.  Yet,  at  this 
same  period,  he  proposed  to  M.  Souvorine,  editor 
of  Le  Nouveau  Temps,  that  he  should  publish  this 
novel,  saying  to  him  :  "  So  far  as  I  can  judge  of  it, 
it  is  a  remarkable  novel.  It  paints  the  manners 
of  the  Parisian  workman,  whom  Zola  knows  as  no 
one  else  knows  him»" 

This  variety  of  impressions,  this  contradictoriness 
of  opinion,  is  admirably  explained  by  M.  Polonsky, 
the  friend  of  TourguenefPs  youth,  himself  a  cele- 
brated writer  and  keen  observer.  In  a  letter  which 
he  wrote  to  me,  at  the  time  of  the  incident  with 
which  we  are  dealing,  he  says  : — 

"  As  to  your  wish  to  quote  some  passages  from  my 
letters  in  your  article,1  you  may  certainly  do  so, 
especially  those  in  which  I  state  that  Tourguéneff, 
so  far  as  I  can  judge  from  our  conversations,  not 
only  never  calumniated  those  French  writers  with 
zuhom  he  was  acquainted,  but  always  appeared  prcud 
of  their  friendship  and  their  esteem^ 

1   For  my  article    n  the  Nyvosti. 
182 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Nevertheless,  Tourguéneff's  nature  was  a  com- 
plex one.  His  temperament  was  alternately  that 
of  a  man,  of  a  woman,  and  of  a  child.  Sometimes, 
manlike,  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  both  to  scandal  and 
to  tittle-tattle,  sometimes,  on  the  other  hand,  woman- 
like, he  was  irritated  and  enraged  by  any  sort  of 
calumny,  believed  in  it,  and  was  capable  at  those 
times  of  being  unjust  even  to  those  who  were 
dearest  to  him.  It  was  not  for  nothing  that  he 
refused  to  woman  all  sense  of  justice.  If  at  one  of 
these  times  X.1  had  told  him  anything  to  the  dis- 
advantage of  Daudet  or  any  one  else,  Tourguéneff 
might  easily  have  believed  in  the  calumny  for  the 
moment,  and  said,  in  consequence,  any  sort  of  ill- 
natured  thing  about  his  friends. 

For  the  rest,  I  cannot  help  wondering  if  Tour- 
guéneff often  saw  X.,  and  if  this  X.  were  not  the 
"  false  friend  "  to  whom  the  author  of  Tourguéneff 
Inconnu-  refers. 

Indeed,  M.  Michel  Delines,  the  author  of 
Tourguéneff  Inconnu,  indicates  this  "  false  friend  " 
with  sufficient  clearness.  He  even  quotes  Tour- 
gueneff's  opinion  of  this  personage,  an  opinion  of 
scarcely  a  flattering  kind,  together  with  a  kind  of 
presentiment  on  TourguenefPs  part,  of  these  future 
"  revelations."  But  I  shall  not  reproduce  it  here, 
not  wishing  to  follow  the  example  of  the  author  of 

1   The  author  of  The  Souvenirs  sur  Tourguéneff. 
-   Published  in  Paris. 

183 


TToitrfluéneff  anft 

the  Souvenirs  sur  Tourguéneff  in  making  statements 
which  I  cannot  verify. 

As  for  the  letters  from  which  Polonsky  authorised 
me  to  quote  in  my  article  in  the  Novosti,  it  does  not 
seem  to  me  worth  while  to  make  use  of  them  again 
now,  having  since  then  received  a  letter,  written  in 
French,  which  sums  up  all  that  he  said  to  me  in  his 
former  correspondence.     Here  it  is  : — 

«St.  Petersburg,    [fs^i1    \     I8q6. 

'      (  September  1 1  J  '  " 

"  Dear  Sir, — During  my  stay  at  Spasskoïc 
Tourguéneff's  Russian  property)  I  had,  as  usual, 
long  talks  with  my  iold  friend  Ivan  Serguéivitch, 
who  was  always  perfectly  frank  with  me  and  con- 
cealed nothing.  I  can  therefore  state  with  absolute 
certainty  that  Tourguéneff,  even  in  the  course  of 
the  most  intimate  and  confidential  talk,  never  spoke 
with  anything  but  the  greatest  possible  esteem  of  his 
French  literary  friends,  Flaubert,  Zola,  Daudet, 
Maupassant,  Goncourt,  and  others,  to  all  of  whom 
he  was  most  attached.  He  was  proud  of  his  cordial 
relations  with  famous  French  authors,  and  never 
concealed  the  fact. 

"  I  well  remember  Tourguéneff's  proposing  on 
the  death  of  Gustave  Flaubert,  for  whom  he  had  a 
peculiar  veneration,  that  the  Russian  public  should 
subscribe  towards  erecting  a  monument  to  the  great 
dead  author.  Whereupon,  a  certain  section  of  the 
press  promptly  fell  upon  him,  ironically  pointing  out 
184 


this  jfrencb  Circle 

how  entirely  unnecessary  it  was  to  subscribe  towards 
a  monument  to  a  foreign  writer  when  so  many 
Russian  celebrities,  such  as  Gogol,  Griboiedoff, 
Lermontoff,  were  either  kept  waiting  a  long  time 
for  their  monuments  or  else  had  none  at  all. 
"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Jacques  Polonsky." 

Finally,  let  me  reproduce  a  letter  written  to  me 
on  the  14th  of  November,  1887,  by  Saltykov 
(Stchédrine),  to  whom  Tourgucneff  had  addressed 
the  letter  quoted  above  in  which  he  expressed  his 
opinion  of  Goncourt  and  Zola  : — 

"  I  see  nothing  offensive,  and  nothing  treacherous 
with  regard  to  his  friends,  in  TourgucnefFs 
criticism  of  contemporary  French  realists.  It  is 
quite  possible  to  remain  on  friendly  terms  with  one's 
friends  without  admiring  everything  about  them. 
TourguenefF  expressed  himself  somewhat  harshly 
when  he  said  that  Goncourt  and  Zola's  works 
'  reeked  of  the  lamp,'  but  that's  all  there  is  to  be 
said.  This  criticism  was  written  in  reply  to  a 
letter  of  mine  in  which  I  said  that  these  writers 
were  not  realists  in  the  sense  that  Gogol,  Dickens, 
&c,  were,  but  psychologists  who  had  assumed  the 
name  of  realists." 

And  further  on  he  adds  : — 

"  However  that  may  be,  I  never  noticed  in 
TourguenefPs    character     the    slightest    trace    of 

hypocrisy." 

185 


XEourptteneff  anft 

And  now  to  sum  up.  In  the  whole  of  Tour- 
guéneff's  correspondence  we  have  only  been  able 
to  find  one  single  very  innocent  passage  hostile  to 
his  French  literary  friends — a  passage  which  in  no 
way  reflects  upon  the  sincerity  of  his  friendships, 
but  shows  simply  the  independence  of  his  judgment. 
As  Saltykov  says,  in  fact,  it  is  possible  to  be  a  true 
friend  to  a  person  without  admiring  everything 
about  him.  This  is  also  Zola's  opinion.  Moreover, 
he  could  in  no  sense  be  accused  of  hypocrisy,  since 
we  have  seen  already  from  his  letter  to  Daudet,1  on 
the  subject  of  Le  Nabab,  that  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
mingle  criticism  with  praise. 

Up  to  this  point  we  have  only  dealt  with  words. 
Let  us  see  now  what  the  facts  are. 

From  the  letters  to  Zola  which  I  am  now 
publishing  we  shall  see  with  what  devotion,  sparing 
neither  time  nor  trouble,  Tourgucneff  endeavoured 
to  make  his  friend's  books  known  in  Russia.  What 
he  did  for  Zola  he  had  already  done  for  Gustave 
Flaubert;  afterwards  came  Goncourt's  turn  and  that 
of  Guy  de  Maupassant.  Never  did  he  take  such 
minute  pains  to  safeguard  his  own  interests,  as  those 
he  took  in  the  service  of  his  friends.  It  was  he  who 
made  all  their  business  arrangements  for  them  ;  it 
was  he  who  asked  Zola  to  give  him  the  right  to  act 

1   See  p.  107. 
186 


Tbig  jfrencb  Circle 

for  him  in  Russia  as  he  was  already  acting  for 
Tolstoï  in  France.  Of  this  transaction  Zola  has 
found  the  following  minute  among  his  papers,  written 
in  Tourguénefr's  own  hand  : — 

"  I,  the  undersigned,  declare  that  I  have  given 
full  powers  to  M.  Ivan  TourguénefF  to  act  for  me 
with  regard  to  my  rights  as  author  arising  out  of 
any  translations  which  may  be  made  of  my  works 
into  Russian.  Moreover,  I  authorise  M. TourguénefF 
to  enter  into  negotiations  with  translators  and 
publishers  on  the  question  of  terms." 

And  if  any  one  should  care  to  know  how  he 
recommended  the  works  of  his  friends,  what  self- 
abnegation  he  showed  in  order  to  get  them  placed,  let 
them  read  the  following  lines  from  a  letter  of 
Charles  Edmond's  : — 

"...  The  Temps  had  already  published  some 
of  his  books,  when  chancing  to  meet  him  one  day  I 
remarked  to  him  that  our  common  friend  Hébrard 
would  be  very  glad  to  offer  him  again  the  hospitality 
of  the  Temps. 

"  '  Let's  go  to  my  rooms,'  replied  TourguénefF, 
after  a  moment's  thought,  '  and  I  can  promise  both 
you  and  Hébrard  a  surprise  with  which  you  will  be 
more  than  satisfied.' 

"  This  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  ever  heard 
Ivan  Serguéivitch  speak  in  such  a  flattering  way  of 
his  own  merits. 

"On  arriving  at  his  rooms,  TourguénefF  took  from 
187 


TEourguéneff  an& 

his  writing-table  a  roll  of  paper.  I  give  what  he 
said  word  for  word  : — 

"  '  Listen,'  he  said,  '  here  is  "  copy  "  for  your 
paper  of  an  absolutely  first-rate  kind.  This  means 
that  I  am  not  its  author.  The  master — for  he  is  a 
real  master — is  almost  unknown  in  France,  but  I 
assure  you,  on  my  soul  and  conscience,  that  I  do  not 
consider  myself  worthy  to  unloose  the  latchct  of  his 
shoes.' 

"  Two  days  afterwards  there  appeared  in  the 
Temps,  Les  Souvenirs  de  Sebastopol  by  Léon  Tolstoï." 

This  was  in  April,  1876. 

This  was  the  sort  of  thing  Tourgue'neff  could  do 
for  his  friends,  and  I  think  one  would  have  to  search 
the  literary  world  for  a  long  time  before  finding  a 
writer  capable  of  such  modesty  and  such  self-efface- 
ment. 

If  I  persist  thus  in  showing  Tourgueneft's  loyal 
and  sincere  character  in  its  true  light,  it  is  due  to  my 
recollection  of  a  later  conversation  with  Alphonse 
Daudet,  in  which  there  was  no  further  question 
either  of  the  Souvenirs  sur  Tourgucncjf  or  of  the 
famous  letters  to  Sacher-Mazoch,  but  simply  of  the 
personal  impressions  of  Tourguéneff  preserved  by 
the  author  of  Nabab. 

"You  may  have  heard,"  he  said  to  me,  "of  the 
action  brought  against  me  a  few  years  ago  by  an 
actor  whom  I  had  taken  under  my  protection,  and 
188 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

who   rewarded    me  in    this  fashion   because  I   had 
refused  to  collaborate  with  him  in  an  idiotic  adapta- 
tion of  one  of  my  novels  for  the  stage.     His  work 
was  beneath  contempt  and  even  showed  a  complete 
ignorance    of  spelling.      Nevertheless  he  asserted 
that  I  had  appropriated  this  production,  and  intended 
to  make  use  of  it.     Needless  to  say  the  true  state 
of  affairs  came  out  in  the  trial,  and  he  lost  his  case, 
but  I  had  a  great  deal  of  worry  over  it.     One  day, 
before  the  judge's  decision  was  given,  I  met  Tour- 
guéneff.     c  Look  here,  Daudet,'  he  said  to   me,  c  I 
hear  that  your  case  is  by  no  means  plain  sailing  ; 
people  say  that  you  may  very  likely  get  the  worst 
of  it.'      From  the  way  in  which  this  was  said,  I  saw 
clearly  that  those  by  whom  TourguénefF  was  sur- 
rounded and   from  whom  he  got  his   information 
were  no  friends  of  mine.      Probably,  too,  he  owed 
me  a  grudge  for  never   having  been   to  see  him  in 
spite  of  his  invitations.     Being  a  married  man    I 
could  not  visit  a  family  without  my  wife,  and  as  his 
invitations  were  addressed  to  me  alone,  I  stayed  at 
home." 

However,  Alphonse  Daudet  confessed  to  me  that 
he  would  certainly  never  have  written  the  post- 
script, which  was  the  cause  of  the  whole  incident, 
if  he  had  allowed  time  to  affect  his  first  impression. 
But,  as  he  says  himself,  it  was  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  was  correcting  the  proofs  of  his  book  that 
some  officious  friends — of  whom  there  are  always 
i8q 


Uourguéneff  anE» 

plenty  in  the  world — drew  his  attention  to  the 
pages  concerning  him  in  the  Souvenirs  sur  Tour- 
guéneff. 

Finally,  after  reading  TourguénefF's  letters  to 
Flaubert,  published  in  Cosmopolis^  the  master  wrote 
to  me,  quite  recently,  as  follows  : — 

"  The  letters  of  TourguénefF  which  you  sent 
me,  together  with  your  intelligent  and  subtle  notes, 
have  indeed  modified  mv  feeling  with  regard  to 
the  great  Russian  writer.  Yes,  you  are  right  : 
TourguénefF  was  not  a  hypocrite  ;  he  was  not 
double-faced,  or  at  least  he  was  only  so  to  the 
extent  necessitated  by  the  world  and  society.  He 
strikes  me  in  these  letters  as  being,  before  all 
things,  a  sad  being,  a  man  discontented  with  every- 
thing, especially  with  himself;  he  didn't  succeed 
in  controlling  his  life,  and  it  led  him  where  he 
didn't  want  to  go  ;  he  was  like  a  man  sleeping  in  a 
badly  made  bed,  who  turns  and  turns  In  the  creases 
in  his  sheets. 

"  I  find  also  in  this  correspondence  a  fresh  proof 
of  what  I  knew  already — that  no  foreigner,  however 
great  his  apparent  intimacy  with  it  may  be,  ever 
really  knows  our  language  ;  the  written  judgments 
of  TourguénefF  upon  French  literary  men,  as  well 
as  his  spoken  ones,  testify  to  the  truth  of  this.  I 
well  remember  our  discussions  about  Chateaubriand 
and  the  Mémoires  tV  Outre-tombe  and  his  bewilder- 
ment when  Flaubert  and  I  declared  that  the  master 
190 


Tftis  jfrencb  circle 

of  French    style    in    the    nineteenth    century   was 
Chateaubriand,  and  Chateaubriand  alone.   .   .   . 

"But  I  must  stop  ;  recollections  are  crowding  in 
upon  me,  and  I  have  no  time  to  stay  talking.   .   .  . 

[Here  follow  a  feiv  lines  of  a  purely  personal 
character. ~\ 

"Alphonse   Daudet." 

This  letter  shows  that  if  a  certain  bitterness 
remains  in  Alphonse  Daudet's  heart,  his  large  mind 
at  all  events,  is  beginning  to  shake  itself  free  from 
the  insinuations  of  interested  persons,  and  everv- 
thing  leads  one  to  suppose  that  in  the  full  light 
of  what  I  have  just  succeeded  in  establishing,  he 
will  yet   do  justice   to  his   former  friend. 

With  regard  to  the  opinion  expressed  by  my 
eminent  correspondent  as  to  Tourguéneff's  know- 
ledge of  the  French  language,  I  may  recall  the  fact 
that,  in  a  letter  to  Georges  Sand,  Flaubert  gave  vent 
to  his  keen  disappointment  at  not  finding  himself  in 
agreement  with  the  Russian  author  and  another 
author,  this  time  a  Frenchman^  upon  Chateau- 
briand : — 

"  But  how  difficult  it  is  to  agree  !  "  he  exclaims. 
"  Here  are  two  men,  both  of  whom  I  am  very 
fond  of,  and  whom  I  regard  as  genuine  artists, 
Tourguéneff  and  Zola.  And  yet  they  neither  of 
them  admire  Chateaubriand's  prose,  and  still  less 
that  of  Gautier.  Phrases  which  delight  me  strike 
191 


Uouuguéneft  anft 

them  as  hollow.  Which  of  us  is  wrong  ?  And 
how  can  one  hope  to  please  the  public  when  those 
nearest  to  one  differ  from  one  so  widely  ?  All  this 
depresses  me  a  great  deal.  Don't  laugh  at  me." 
I  have  reason  to  believe  that  Zola  has  since 
changed  his  mind.  Nevertheless,  this  whole  dis- 
cussion surely  proves  that  a  man  does  not  neces- 
sarily stamp  himself  as  ignorant  of  the  fine  shades 
of  a  language  by  his  inability  to  admire  unre- 
servedly the  style  of  a  great  author.  To  discuss 
questions  of  style  with  a  foreign  writer  is  in  itself 
to  recognise  him  as  a  competent  judge,  and  hard- 
and-fast  rules  seem  particularly  impossible  when 
one  finds  even  such  a  master  of  literary  form  as 
Flaubert  asking  in  such  a  connection  as  the  above, 
"  Which  of  us  is  wrong  ?  " 

The  fact  is  that  Tourguéneff,  having  been  edu- 
cated by  parents  who  knew  French  well,  trained  in 
the  language  from  the  earliest  age  by  French  tutors, 
and  having  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  after-life  in 
French  literary  circles,  contrived  to  master  so 
thoroughly  the  beautiful  features  which  distin- 
guished the  limpid  style  of  his  friends  that  Taine 
was  able  to  say  of  him  that  "  his  French  was  that 
of  the  salons  of  the  eighteenth  centurv." 

Nevertheless,  it  is  one  thing  to  understand   the 

language  so  as  to  feel  its  beauties  and  its  subtleties, 

and  quite  another  thing  to  be  able  to  use  it  as  an 

artistic   instrument.     For  this  reason  Tourguéneff 

192 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

never  allowed  himself  to  write  even  the  smallest 
of  his  works  in  any  other  language  but  Russian. 
One  of  his  biographers,  M.  Venguérov,  having  said 
that  some  of  his  stories  were  written  in  French  or 
in  German,  Tourguéneff  protested  vehemently  : 
"  I  have  never  published  a  single  line  in  anything 
but  Russian  ;  if  I  had  I  should  not  be  an  artist,  but 
a  scribbler  beneath  contempt.  How  can  one 
possibly  write  in  a  foreign  language  when,  as  it  is, 
one  finds  it  so  difficult  to  express  adequately,  in 
one's  native  tongue  even,  all  the  thoughts  and 
images  which  come  crowding  in  upon  one  ?  " 

And  as  a  matter  of  fact  when  he  wanted  to  pro- 
duce one  of  his  works  for  the  French  public, 
Tourguéneff—  although  these  letters  of  his  we  are 
now  publishing  prove  how  graceful  was  his  power 
of  French  phrase — always  had  recourse  to  the  kind 
offices  of  his  friends,  M.  and  Madame  Viardot,  or 
to  those  of  Mérimée  or  Flaubert.  This  we  have 
seen  from  the  correspondence  addressed  to  the  latter 
on  the  subject  of  Monsieur  François^  a  story  which 
first  appeared  in  La  Nouvelle  Revue.  On  this  head, 
therefore,  Daudet  and  Tourguéneff  are  entirely 
agreed. 

In  conclusion,  then,  whatever  may  be  thought 
of  the  numerous  questions  suggested  by  the  incident 
which  I  have  related,  it  has,  at  any  rate,  proved 
a  favourable  opportunity  for  me  to  throw  into  relief 
the  real  nature  of  Tourguéneff's  relations  with  his 
French  friends. 

193  o 


ftourauéneff  anb 


48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Friday  Evening  [beginning  of  1874). 
"  My  dear  Zola, — I  am  greatly  distressed  at 
your  having  had  a  useless  journey.  I  thought  I 
had  told  you  that  I  should  be  at  home  until  two 
o'clock.  I  must  apologise  for  my  want  of  memory. 
Will  you  come  to-morrow,  or  Sunday,  or  Monday, 
before  two  o'clock,  or  Tuesday  between  four  and 
six  ?  I  will  be  sure  to  be  there.  Let  me  know 
the  day  and  hour,  if  you  will. 

Ever  yours, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 


11. 

Spasskoïé,  Prov.  of  Orel,  Mtsensk  Town, 
Thursday^  17/5  "June,  1874. 
My  dear  Zola, — If  you  have  an  atlas  turn  to 
the  map  of  Russia,   and   with    Moscow    for    your 
starting-point,  pass  your  finger  in  the  direction  of 
the  Black  Sea.     On  your  way  you  will  come  across 
— a    little    to    the    north    of    Orel — the    town    of 
Mtsensk.     Very  well — my  village  is  ten  kilomètres 
from  this  latter   place,  with  its  somewhat  unpro- 
nounceable name.     It  is  an  absolutely  lonely  place, 
full  of  peace,  verdure,  and  sadness.     If  I  can  work 
in  it  I  shall  stay  here  some  time  ;  if  not,  I  shall  be 
194 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

off,  and  after  a  stay  of  six  weeks  at  Carlsbad  I 
shall  be  back  in  Paris,  where  I  shall  certainly  see 
you. 

And  now  to  business  ! 

I  became  convinced  in  St.  Petersburg  that,  given 
the  actual  state  of  international  legislation,  there 
was  nothing  to  hinder  the  first-comer  from  trans- 
lating and  publishing  your  works,  and  that's  why 
I  couldn't  find  a  place  for  La  Conquête  de  Plassans. 
No  translation  has  yet  appeared,  but  the  editor  of 
the  review  of  which  I  spoke  to  you  x  didn't  care  to 
take  the  risk  of  ordering  a  translation  when  he  has 
no  certainty  of  being  first  in  the  field.  (At  the 
very  moment  of  my  leaving  St.  Petersburg  La 
Curée  had  just  appeared  at  a  bookseller's  under  the 
title  of  Dobytclia  Brochennaia  Soba£am,which  is, liter- 
ally, The  Prey  Thrown  to  the  Dogs.)  But  as  the 
editor  in  question  sets  great  store  by  the  publication 
of  your  works  in  his  review,  he  proposes  this,  through 
me  :  to  pay  you  30  roubles  (105  francs)  per  printed 
folio  for  everything  you  may  send  him  in  MS.  and  in 
proof  ;  and  as  he  will  have  to  pay  almost  as  much  to 
the  translator,  this  seems  to  me  a  fair  price,  and  I 
think  you  ought  to  accept  it.  Send  me  a  line,  in 
answer,  to  the  following  address  :  M.  I.  T.,  Hôtel 
Demouth,  Grande  Rue  des  Ecuries,  St.  Peters- 
burg.    I  shall   be   there   in   three   weeks  at  latest, 

1  The    editor    is    undoubtedly     M.    Stassulevitch,   editor    of    the 
Messager  de   l'Europe. 

195 


Uourquéneff  anft 

and   I  will  send  on  your  reply  to  its  proper  desti- 
nation. 

The  editor  has  read  your  Conquête  and  is  delighted 
with  it. 

The  novel  you  are  at  work  upon  rouses  my 
curiosity  greatly.  I  believe  it  will  be  excellent. 
Its  subject  is  at  once  very  simple  and  very 
original.1 

I  have  just  written  to  Flaubert,  but  I  am  much 
afraid  my  letter  will  no  longer  find  him  at  Croisset. 
He  meant  to  go  and  seek  rest  and  refreshment  in 
Switzerland,  at  the  Righi.  The  Russian  public 
wouldn't  have  anything  to  say  to  his  Antoine, 
which  was  not  even  forbidden  by  the  Censor  ! 
He  mustn't  be  told  of  this  unusual  fact. 

Au  revoir  ;   I  wish   you  health  and  good  spirits, 
and  I  am,  with  cordial  regards, 
Yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — Politics  are  taking  a  queer  turn  with  you. 

in. 

Konig  von  England,  Carlssad, 

Monday,  August  II,  1874. 
My  dear  Zola, — Some  one  must  have  cast  the 
evil  eye  upon  me  !     For  the  last  three  months  I 
have  been  going  from  bad  to  worse.     After  having 

1  La  Faute  de  ï 'Abbé '  Moure  t . 
196 


1bts  jfrencb  Circle 

suffered  martyrdom  in  my  "  cara  patria,"  here  I  am 
at  Carlsbad  more  completely  tied  by  the  leg  than 
ever.  I  have  had  about  enough  of  it,  and  as 
soon  as  I  can  move  I  shall  fly  to  Paris,  and  from 
there  to  Bougival.  If  I  have  got  to  suffer,  there, 
at  least  I  shall  be  at  home. 

I  have  not  forgotten  your  interests  and  my 
promises.  I  have  had  exhaustive  conversations 
with  M.  Stassulevitch,  the  editor  of  the  Russian 
review  (the  Messager  de  P  Europe).  I  could  send 
you  a  list  of  his  proposals,  which  are  well  worth 
accepting,  but  as  he  is  bound  to  be  in  Paris  in  the 
month  of  September  (about  the  ioth  or  15th), 
I  would  rather  make  you  acquainted  with  one 
another,  and  then  we'll  deal  with  the  whole  matter 
like  wise  and  fair-minded  men.1  You  will  be  in 
Paris  then,  won't  you  ?  Write  me  one  line  to 
Maison  Halgan,  Bougival,  Seine-et-Oise,  close  to 
the  church.  I  hope  to  be  there  in  a  week's  time  if 
the  devil  (for  the  gout  is  nothing  else)  does  not 
interfere. 

I  am  bringing  you  back  a  translation  of  La  Curée 
horribly  mutilated  by  the  Censorship.  La  Conquête 
de  Plassans  has  been  published  in  an  abridged  form 
by    a    newspaper  —  the    (Russian)   Journal  de    St. 

1  We  have  seen  in  my  preface  that  Tourguéneff  was  actively 
engaged  in  getting  for  Zola  a  regular  and  remunerative  post  on  a 
Russian  periodical.  This  letter,  as  well  as  the  following  ones, 
refers  to  his  negotiations  with  the  editor  of  a  review  for  which  he 
wrote  himself. 

I97 


TEomrguéneff  a"E> 

Pétersbourg ;  another  newspaper  [La  Gazette  de 
Moscou)  gives  the  translation  in  its  entirety,  as  a 
feuilleton. 

I  wish  you  good  health  and  plenty  of  work. 
The  subject  of  your  new  novel  1  is  doubtful — I 
mean  difficult  ;  but  you  will  succeed  in  mastering 
it.  You're  a  doggedly  hard  worker,  and  you 
haven't  got  the  gout. 

A  thousand  kind  regards  and  au  revoir. 

Iv.    ToURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — I  have  heard  from  Flaubert.  He  is  at 
Croisset,  and  is  getting  ready  to  tackle  his  novel.2 


IV. 

Bougival,  Maison  Halgan  (Seine-et-Oise), 
JVcdnesday,  September  23,  1874. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  came  back  here  three 
weeks  ago,  still  suffering  from  the  gout  (now  I 
am  better).  I  waited  to  write  to  you  until  the 
arrival  of  Stassulevitch  (the  editor  of  the  review  of 
which  I  spoke  to  you),  and  now  I  am  in  receipt  of 
a  letter  in  which  he  informs  me  that  he  has  been 
obliged  to  return  with  the  utmost  speed  to  St. 
Petersburg,  in  order  to  rescue  his  review,  which 
was  about  to  be  suppressed.  He  was  successful  in 
this,  but  he  can't  come  to  Paris  till  December. 
Meanwhile  he  is  very  anxious  that  I  should  arrange 

1   La  Faute  de  VAbbe  Mouret .  "  Bouvard  et  Pécuchet. 

I98 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

matters  with  you,  and  he  has  sent  me  his  condi- 
tions. We  must  therefore  see  one  another  as  soon 
as  possible.  Unfortunately  I  have  lost  my  little 
book  of  addresses,  and  I  can't  remember  yours.  I 
am  obliged  to  write  to  you  to  Charpentier's  care. 
To-morrow  I  must  go  to  Paris,  but  very  likely  you 
won't  yet  have  received  my  letter,  and  on  Saturday 
— although  still  quite  crippled — I  am  going  to  my 
daughter's  (near  Chàteaudun),  where  I  shall  stay 
till  Tuesday. 

I  hardly  like  to  ask  you  to  come  to  Bougival  in 
this  bad  weather.  But,  look  here,  this  is  what  I 
propose  :  if  Charpentier  forwards  this  letter  to  you 
to-morrow  morning,  come  to  the  Rue  de  Douai  at 
two  o'clock,  or  else  let  us  meet  on  Wednesday  at 
eleven  o'clock,  at  the  Café  Riche,  let  us  say  for 
lunch.  We  may  regard  that  as  settled,  mayn't  we? 
To-morrow  or  Wednesday. 

I  have  brought  back  with  me  a  copy  of  the 
translation  of  La  Curée.  La  Conquête  de  Plassans 
has  been  twice  fully  translated,  twice  in  an  abridged 
form  (like  the  kind  of  thing  that  Forgues  used  to  do 
in  La  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes),  three  or  four  times 
summarised,  and  has  formed  the  subject  of  as  many 
critical  articles.  You're  the  only  author  who  is 
being  read  in  Russia. 

Au  revoir,  and  a  thousand  kind  regards. 
Yours, 

IV.    TOURGUÉNEFF, 

199 


XtourGuénetf  anfc 


V. 


Bougival,  Maison  Halgan  (near  the  church), 
Thursday^  October  I,  1874. 

My  dear  Zola, — I  returned  the  day  before 
yesterday  from  my  expedition  to  Chdteaudun,  and 
I  did  really  mean  to  keep  our  appointment  of 
yesterday,  but  I  was  seized  during  the  night  with 
a  ninth  attack  of  gout,  and  I  wrote  to  you  as  soon 
as  morning  came,  to  Charpentier's  care,  to  tell  you 
of  this.  Young  G.  Chamerot,  the  husband  of 
Madame  Viardot's  eldest  daughter,  took  it  into 
Paris  for  me,  but  the  messenger  to  whom  he  gave 
the  letter  declares  that  he  couldn't  find  number 
twenty-one  in  your  street  (the  address  was  given 
by  Charpentier),  so  that  you  must  have  had  a  use- 
less journey  and  waited  for  me  at  the  café.  I 
apologise  most  sincerely. 

I  spent  all  yesterday  in  bed,  and  I  sha'n't  be  able 
to  go  out  for  three  or  four  days.  But  I  want  to  see 
you  and  talk  over  our  affairs.  If  it  isn't  too  great 
a  bore  come  here  to-morrow  (Friday)  between 
luncheon  and  dinner.  You  must  start  from  the 
Saint  Lazare  station.  The  trains  leave  at  thirty- 
five  minutes  after  every  hour.  When  you  get  to 
the  station  of  Rueil,  take  the  American  omnibus, 
which  will  bring  you  to  Bougival  (don't  take  the 
one  which  only  goes  as  far  as  Rueil),  and  then 
200 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

you'll  have  five  minutes'  walk  from  there  to  Halgan 
House,  which  is  behind  the  church. 

I  should   be  very  glad   to  see  you.     Meanwhile, 
believe  me, 

Cordially  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — I  sent  you  a  telegram  yesterday  evening. 


VI. 

Bougival,  Halgan  House  (near  the  church), 
Saturday^  October  3,  1874. 

My  dear  Zola, — Certainly  I  should  be  delighted 
to  see  Charpentier,  but  here  is  my  proposal  :  I  am 
better,  and  on  Monday  I  shall  be  able  to  go  to 
Paris.  Will  you  do  on  Monday  what  we  were  to 
have  done  last  Wednesday,  and  come,  with 
Charpentier,  to  the  Café  Riche  at  eleven  o'clock  ? 
If  some  fresh  abomination  should  turn  up  to 
interfere  with  this  I'll  send  you  a  telegram  now 
that  I  know  your  address. 

We  shall  meet  soon  anyhow.  Many  kind 
regards. 

Yours, 

IV.    TOURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — If  you  can't  come  Mondav,  will  you  come 
Wednesday  ?  If  you  don't  write  I  shall  expect 
you  on  Monday. 


201 


UourQuéneff  anft 

VII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday  (February^  1875). 
My  dear  Friend, — Thank  you  very  much  for 
sending  me  your  article  on  A.  Dumas.1  It  will 
make  my  relations  with  him  rather  more  strained 
than  before,  but  I  don't  care  the  least  about  that. 
I  want  to  get  you  to  come  and  dine  (you  and 
Flaubert)  with  Saltykov.2  The  bouillabaisse  we.  had 
the  other  day  made  such  a  deep  impression  upon  me 
that  I  shouldn't  be  sorrv  to  try  the  same  place  again 
on  Friday.  How  will  that  suit  you  ?  Write  me 
one  line.  I'll  talk  it  over  with  you  to-day.  I 
couldn't  come  on  Sundav. 

Very  cordially  yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. —Of    course    it    is    understood    that    I    am 
giving   the   dinner. 

VIII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday^  February  25,  1875. 
My  dear  Friend, — Your  parcel  was  sent  off 
the    very    day    I    received    it — that    is    to    say,    on 

1  This  article  appeared  in  Le  Messager  de  l'Europe  (March,  1875) 
under  the  title  of  "A  New  Academician,"  on  the  occasion  of  the 
reception  of  A.  Dumas,  jun.,  into  the  French  Academy. 

2  The  celebrated  Russian  satirist  known  under  the  pseudonym  of 
Stcke'drine. 

202 


IfMs  jfrencb  Circle 

Monday.     It  will   still  get  there  in  time,  I  hope. 
Let's  wait  for  the  answer. 

I  have  got  a  literary  and  musical  matinée  coming 
off  on  Saturday  (a  Russian  charitable  affair),  and 
I  am  so  busy  that  my  head  is  in  a  whirl. 

I   shall   come   to  Flaubert's  on  Sunday  without 
fail.     You  will  be  there  too,  won't  you  ? 
Yours  ever, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
IX. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Saturday  (2Jth  February,  1875). 
My  dear  Friend, — All  right,  then — Monday.1 
Thanks  for  your  book,2  which  I  have  already 
begun.  I  am  sending  you  a  little  thing  3  of  my 
own,  which  came  out  in  the  Temps.  A  thousand 
kind  regards,  and  au  revoir. 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday,  May  1 3M  (1875). 
My  dear  Zola, — Please    write    this    very  day 
(May    1 3/1)  to  Stassulevitch  that  you  are  sending 

1  An    appointment    for    a     dinner    with    Flaubert,    Daudet,    and 
Goncourt. 

2  La  Faute  de  V Abbe'  Mouret . 

A  story  called  "  Ça  fait  du  bruit  !  " 

203 


gourguéneff  anft 

him  a  feuilleton  on  the  8/20th.  Henceforward  he 
begs  that  you  will  always  write  to  him  on  the  i/i3th 
of  the  month,  to  let  him  know  whether  you  are 
sending  a  feuilleton  or  not.  I  shall  come  and  see 
you  the  day  after  to-morrow,  in  the  morning,  to 
bring  you  some  ?noney,  &c.  .  .  .  To-morrow  I'm  too 
busy. 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 
XI. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday ',  May  25/13,  1875. 
My  dear  Zola, — If  you  want  to  see  my 
picture,  come  the  day  after  to-morrow,  Thursday, 
at  11  o'clock^  to  Harlamoff's,  42,  Rue  Fontaine.  I 
shall  be  there.  It  will  be  the  last  sitting.  The 
picture  is  nearly  finished.  It  will  be  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  you  once  more  before  I  start  for  Carls- 
bad, which  I  do  on  Friday.  Au  revoir^  and  accept 
my  most  cordial  regards. 

Ever  yours, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 
XII. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes,  September  26,  1875. 

My  dear   Friend, — Your    letter   of  the    8th 

only  reached  me  on  the  20th.     The  post  has  been 

playing    that    sort    of    trick    on    me    lately.     I'm 

204 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

writing  in  the  hope  that  my  letter  will  still  find 
you  at  St.  Aubin.  I  feel  sure  that  the  sea-air  has 
done  your  wife  the  greatest  possible  good.  I'm 
glad  to  hear  that  you're  at  work  and  finishing 
things.  So  there  are  still  men  who  drive  the  plough  ! 

Poor  Flaubert  is  in  a  pitiable  state  of  mind  ;  as 
you  say,  all  his  friends  must  gather  round  him 
this  winter,  if  he  comes  to  Paris,  for  that's  not  quite 
certain  yet.  I  think  it's  abominably  cruel  of  Fate 
to  deal  such  a  blow  to  the  man  of  all  others  least 
fitted  to  work  for  his  living. 

Stassulevitch,  whom  I  saw  several  times  during 
his  short  stay  in  Paris,  was  very  sorry  too  not  to 
have  made  your  acquaintance  ;  he  has  settled  with 
Charpentier  about  the  new  book.1  By  the  way, 
should  you  mind  if  your  full  name  were  affixed  to 
the  feuilletons  of  Le  Messager  de  V Europe?  He 
commissioned  me  to  ask  you  this.  The  last  one 
(on  the  Goncourt  brothers)  is  excellent.  It  will 
bring  about  the  translation  of  their  novel. 
Stassulevitch  has  already  secured  Renée  Mauperin. 

What  !  is  poor  Goncourt  in  money  difficulties 
too  ?     How  stupid  and  unfair  ! 

I  shall  stay  here  another  month  or  six  weeks, 
but  I  often  go  to  Paris,  and  shall  hope  to  see  you. 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

1  Probably  Son  Excellence  Eugene  Rougon,  which  appeared,  trans- 
lated into  Russian,  in  the  Messager  de  l'Europe  ;  numbers  January, 
February,  March,  April,  1876. 

205 


Uoutguéneff  anfr 

XIII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Monday  {December  1,  1875). 
My  dear  Friend, — I've  this  moment  received 
a  letter  from  Stassulevitch,  who  entreats  you  to 
send  your  monthly  feuilleton,  just  this  once^  not 
later  than  the  5/17  of  December;  that  is  to  say, 
in  four  days'  time,  from  the  23rd  of  December 
[old  style)  onwards.  All  the  printers,  &c,  in  St. 
Petersburg  are  dead  drunk  (it  being  Christmas- 
time), and  one  can't  count  on  them  any  more. 

He  tells  me  at  the  same  time  that  he  has 
received  the  whole  MS.  of  your  novel  ;*  that  he 
has  sent  the  second  instalment  of  400  francs  to 
Charpentier,  and  that  he  will  send  the  third  and 
last  at  the  beginning  of  January. 

Till  Sunday,  then.  Meanwhile  I  wish  you  good 
health  and  good  luck. 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 


xiv. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Monday^  "January  24,  1876. 
My  dear  Zola, — I've  just  received  a  letter  from 
Stassulevitch,  which   is  a  perfect   poem   of  enthu- 

1  Son  Excellence  Eugine  Rougon. 
206 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

siasm  on  the  subject  of  your  article  on  "  Marriage."1 
It  is  having  a  succès  fou  in  Russia.  I  put  you  up 
to  a  good  thing  when  I  turned  your  attention  in 
that  direction. 

I've  had  gout  for  the  last  fortnight,  and  this  is 
why  our  dinner  to-night  came  to  grief.  It  also 
prevents  my  going  to  see  Les  Danlcheff.  As  soon 
as  I'm  a  little  better  I  shall  take  a  box  so  as  to  be 
able  to  stretch  my  leg  at  full  length.  Should  you 
care  to  come  with  me  ? 

How  are  you  ?  Well,  I  hope.  Successful  work 
and  good  health  to  you  ! 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

XV. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday  midday  (February^  1876). 
My  dear  Friend, — It  really  seems  as  though 
Fate  had  done  it  on  purpose  to  annoy.  I  go  out 
yesterday  for  the  first  time,  and  of  course  that  is 
the  very  day  you  choose  for  your  visit.  But  I  count 
on  seeing  you  to-morrow  at  Flaubert's.  We'll  talk 
of  Les  Danlcheff^ 2  and  all  such  productions. 
Many  regards.  Ever  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 

1   "  Le    Mariage    en    France,"    which    appeared    in    the    January 
number  (1876)  of  Le  Messager  de  l'Europe. 

-  Les  Danic/ieff,  was  given  for  the  first  time  at  the  Odéon  on  the 
8th  of  January,  1876. 

207 


Uourauéneff  anfc 


XVI. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

JVednesday,  March  or  April,  1876. 
My  dear  Friend, — One  of  these  days  you'll 
receive  (if  you  have  not  already  done  so)  a  letter 
from  a  certain  M.  Bai'makorF,  the  owner  of 
the  (Russian)  Gazette  de  St.  Peter  sbourg,  contain- 
ing a  proposal  that  you  should  contribute  to  his 
paper  by  writing  feuilletons  for  it.  Dont  bind  your- 
self to  anything,  and  dont  answer  till  you  have 
discussed  it  with  me. 

Will   you   look   in   here   to-morrow   before   two 
o'clock  ?     You'll  see  my  picture  at  the  same  time,1 
which  is  going  to  the  Exhibition  to-morrow. 
Ever  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XVII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Friday,  April  7,  1876. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  waited  till  now  to  answer 
you,  in  the  hope  of  getting  either  a  telegram  or 
a  letter,  but  nothing  has  come.  Probably  the  con- 
ditions we  were  obliged  to  make  about  U Assommoir 
were  not  considered  admissible. 

1  This  refers  to  a  picture  painterl  by  the  great  Russian  artist, 
HarlamofF.  In  a  letter  written  to  me  on  the  subject  he  says  he 
remembers  quite  well  TourguénerF  and  Zola  comintr  to  his  studio  in 
1876. 

208 


tris  jfrencb  Circle 

I  am  all  the  more  in  favour  of  your  idea  of  sub- 
stituting for  your  monthly  letter  to  the  Messager 
de  F  Europe  an  extract  from  the  novel,  preceded  by 
an  analytical  summary  of  the  story,  especially  if  this 
extract  is  not  taken  from  the  beginning  of  the 
novel,  and  presents  therefore  the  attraction  of  a 
novelty.  I  have  no  doubt  Stassulevitch  will  be 
delighted  to  fall  in  with  your  idea,  and  I  don't 
think  there  is  any  need  to  tell  him  about  it  before- 
hand. So  I  think  you  may  set  to  work  upon  it 
to-morrow,  for  it  is  plain  that  we  must  give  up  all 
idea  of  placing  the  translation  to  advantage. 

Nevertheless,  if  anything  should  turn  up,  I  will 
let  you  know  at  once  by  telegram. 

Goodbye  till  Sunday  in  any  case. 
Ever  yours, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — Goncourt  tells  me  that  Flaubert  is  ill  with 
shingles  ;  it's  not  dangerous,  but  it's  horribly 
distressing. 

XVIII. 

Hôtel  Demouth,  St.  Petersburg, 

Thursday  g£*}},  1876. 

My    dear    Friend, — I    have   been    here    three 

days,  and  this  is  the  first  day  I  am  able  to  give  you 

an  answer.     Unfortunately,  it  is  not  a  satisfactory 

one.    After  twenty-four  hours'  reflection,  Souvorine 

209  p 


TEourfluéneff  aiit> 

(of  the  Nouveau  Temps)  informed  me  that  he  could 
neither  go  on  with  U Assommoir,  nor  offer  you  any 
price  for  it,  because  the  summary  of  the  story  which 
you  did  in  your  last  article  for  the  Messager  de 
V Europe  had  destroyed  both  its  novelty  and  its 
interest.  Is  this  his  real  reason,  or  has  he  some 
other  ?  I  don't  know,  but  the  fact  remains  that 
these  good  gentlemen  will  offer  you  nothing. 

I  was  misinformed  about  Le  Dielo.  The  paper, 
or  rather  the  review  (for  it  only  comes  out  once 
a  month),  contained  nothing  but  a  summary  of  the 
novel,  and  it  is  in  such  a  precarious  way  just  now 
that  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  in  that  quarter 
either. 

So  here  we  have  U Assommoir  knocked  on  the 
head  !  You  may  imagine  how  sorry  I  am  about  it. 
As  to  Stassulevitch,  he  is  still  as  delighted  as 
possible  with  your  feuilletons  ;  he  sets  great  store 
by  them,  and  I  think  we  might  raise  our  price,  but 
Saltykov,  whom  I  saw  at  Baden,  will  only  be  here 
the  day  after  to-morrow,  and  till  then  there  is  . 
nothing  to  be  done.  I'll  write  to  you  as  soon  as 
S.1  has  spoken  to  his  chief.2 

All  this  is  not  very  cheerful,  and  please  don't  be 
vexed  with  me  about  it.  I  will  write  to  you  before 
leaving  St.  Petersburg,  when  I've  had  a  talk  with 
Saltykov. 

1   Saltykov. 

*  The  publisher  of  Les  Annales  de  la  Patrie  (M.  Kraievsky). 

2IO 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

I  am  quite  well,  and  I  hope  the  German  doctor 
has  set  you  to  rights.     Remember  me  to  Flaubert 
and  the  others.     Many  cordial  regards. 
Ever  yours, 

Iv.  TûURGUÉNEFF. 

XIX. 

MOSCOW,  AT  THE  COMPTOIR  DES  APANAGES, 

Thursday,  June  15/3,  1876. 
My  dear  Friend, — -I  came  here  yesterday,  and 
am  leaving  to-morrow  for  the  country.  (If  you 
want  to  write  me  a  line  here  is  my  address  : 
M.  I.  T.,  Russia,  Province  of  Orel,  Mtsensk 
Town.)  Saltykov  *  arrived  in  Petersburg  from 
Baden  the  day  before  I  left.  I  saw  him  and 
talked  to  him  twice.  He  was  intending  to  write 
to  you  to  propose  your  sending  them  four  feuilletons 
a  year — at  the  rate  of  100  roubles  (330  francs)  per 
printed  folio.  As  you  can  easily  write  two  and 
a  half  folios  each  time,  this  would  bring  you  in 
800  francs  a  feuilleton,  3,200  francs  a  year.  I 
strongly  advise  you  to  accept  this  without  dropping 
Stassulevitch — that  is  to  say,  still  sending  him  twelve 
letters  a  year.  I  think  you  could  manage  this 
without  much  difficulty,  and  Stassulevitch  is  a  good 
employer  whom  you  must  stick  to,  especially  after 
the  collapse  of  the  poor  Assommoir  in  Russia. 

1   Saltykov  was  at  this  time  the  principal  editor  of  an   important; 
review,  Les  Annales  de  la  Patr'.e. 

2Ï! 


jXourguéneff  anft 

Saltykov  told  me  they  would  let  you  know  the 
subjects  they  would  like  you  to  write  upon,  and 
that  they  would  be  only  too  pleased  if  you  would 
begin  in  October. 

Let  me  know  what  comes  of  all  this. 

Madame  Sand's  death  has  been  a  great  sorrow  to 
me.  I  am  sure  it  must  have  grieved  Flaubert.  I 
mean  to  write  to  him. 

You  might  write  a  splendid  letter  about  her.1 

I  send  you  many  cordial  regards,  and  am 
Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


XX. 

Spasskoïé,  Province  of  Orel,  Mtsensk  Town, 
Monday  ^^%-b. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  have  just  received  your 
letter  here  in  my  den,  and  I  am  answering  it  at 
once.  I  must  begin  by  apologising  sincerely  for 
the  harm  I  did  you  indirectly  by  recommending 
that  German  doctor  to  you.  Evidently  nothing 
German  ever  suits  Frenchmen.  I  am  glad  to 
know  you  are  better,  and  I  feel  sure  the  sea  air 
will  do  you  good. 
-  As  for  the  correspondence  business,  it  is  quite 
straightforward.    Saltykov,  who  is  at  present  staying 

1  Zola  did  write  an  article  upon  Georges   Sand  and  her  works  in 
the  July  number  of  Le  Messager  de  l'Europe  in  1876. 

212 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

in  a  village  in  the  suburbs  of  Moscow,  wrote  to  me 
again  yesterday.  You  know  the  terms  —  four 
letters  a  year,  in  January,  April,  July,  and  October  ; 
330  francs  per  printed  folio  ;  from  two  to  three 
folios  each  letter.  They  would  like  you  to  begin 
next  October.  You  are  to  decide  what  you  wish 
to  write  upon.  I  have  spoken  to  you  of  the 
political  complexion  of  the  review.1 

I  shall  be  back  in  Paris  by  the  28th  or  30th  of 
July.  We'll  take  a  day  about  the  end  of  August 
and  settle  all  this  business.  Saltykov  goes  back  to 
St.  Petersburg  about  the  15th  of  September.  The 
review  comes  out  on  the  1st  of  October  (old  style) 
that's  to  say,  on  the  13th.  I  suppose  you'll  have 
time  enough  ;  if  not  it  must  be  put  off  till  the  1st 
of  January.  It  shall  be  broken  to  Stassulevitch  as 
tastefully  as  possible. 

He  too  has  just  written  to  me.  He  has  received 
your  article  on  Georges  Sand,  and  seems  delighted 
with  it.  It's  not  impossible  that  I  may  write  one 
myself,  suggested  by  yours,  in  which  I  shall  start  a 
friendly  discussion.  I  am  very  curious  to  see  your 
article. 

I  am  working  here  like  a  galley-slave.  I  go  to 
bed  at  2  o'clock,  and  to  sleep  at  3.  I  get  up 
at  9  in  the  daytime.  I  am  overwhelmed  with 
business.     Mercifully,  up  to  the  present,  I  have  not 

1  Les  Annales  de  la  Patrie  was  the  most  liberal  of  all  the  Russian 
publications. 

2I3 


gourgaéneg  aitft 

been  troubled  by  gout.    M.  Nittershauser  succeeded 
better  with  me  than  with  you. 

My  letter  will  reach  you  in  Paris.  Leave  your 
seaside  address  at  the  Rue  de  Douai.  I  will  write 
to  you  as  soon  as  I  get  back. 

Au  revoir,  and  many  cordial  regards. 
Yours  most  sincerely, 

IV.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — I'm  afraid  there's  very  little  hope  for  your 
poor  little  penny-a-lintr.  I've  inquired  in  two  or 
three  places,  but  have  met  with  nothing  but  stony 
faces.     However,  I  don't  yet  despair. 

P.P.S. — The  name  of  your  new  review  is 
Otetchestvennya  Lapriskiy  a  fearfully  long  and  diffi- 
cult name.  It  means  The  Annals  of  our  Country. 
It's  a  very  stupid  title.  It  was  bought  during  the 
Emperor  Nicholas's  reign,  when  the  starting  of  any 
new  papers  was  forbidden. 


XXI. 

Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Monday,  August  7,  1876. 
My  dear  Friend, — The  paper  on  which  I  am 
writing  is  absurdly  smart,  but  I  happened  upon  it 
by  chance. 

I  got  back  here  yesterday  after  a  week's  travel- 
ling from  the  very  heart  of  Russia.     I  found  your 
letter  here,  and  two  others  from  Stassulevitch.     I 
214 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

am  very  glad  it  was  all  settled  in  that  way,  and  you 
were  quite  right  not  to  drop  the  substance  for  the 
shadow  ;  that's  not  what  I  really  mean,  for  the 
other  review  was  not  a  shadow,  but  "  striving  to 
better  oft  we  mar  what's  well,"  and  the  increase  of 
work  would  have  tired  you  out.  Anyway,  you  are 
getting  a  rise  owing  to  all  this.  I'll  explain  the 
whole  thing  when  I  write  to  Stassulevitch  in  such  a 
way  as  not  to  put  him  against  you. 

I  succeeded  in  finishing  my  novel  when  I  was  in 
the  country,  and  am  now  going  to  start  copying  it 
out.1  I  shall  not  budge  from  here  for  six  weeks — ■ 
it  will  take  quite  that  to  get  it  done — with  the  ex- 
ception of  two  or  three  days  which  I  shall  spend 
with  Flaubert  at  Croisset. 

I  hope  you'll  soon  quite  regain  health  and  spirits 
— and  finish  U  Jssommoir.  Writing  for  the  stage  is 
all  very  well  and  amusing,  and  the  little  I've  read  of 
V 'Assommoir  (by  bits  in  the  feuilletons)  has  given 
me  a  very  high  opinion  of  it. 

Well,  may  we  meet  soon  !  for  you  must  be  sure 
and  let  me  know  when  you  will  be  in  Paris. 
With  many  cordial  regards, 
Yours  ever, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


1  Terres  Vierges.     The   original   Russian   version  came  out   in  Le 

Messager  de  l'Europe  in  the  January  and   February  numbers  of  the 
year   1877. 

215 


ZEcmrgueneff  ant) 

XXII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Wednesday  (1876). 
My  dear  Friend, — I  am  going  to  ask  you  a 
favour.  Will  you  be  very  kind  and  read  some 
small  thing  of  your  own  (lasting  from  eight  to  ten 
minutes)  at  a  musical  and  literary  matinee  which  we 
are  getting  up  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  Russian 
students  in  Paris,  and  which  will  take  place  on 
Sunday  (i.e.,  ten  days  hence)  at  the  Rue  de  Douai 
house  ?  Your  name  on  the  bill  (not  a  public  one) 
would  attract  my  fellow-countrymen  as  honey 
attracts  flies.  I  am  going  to  read  something  too, 
and  Madame  Viardot  is  going  to  sing.  Do  say 
"  yes  "  if  you  can,  and  let  me  know  what  piece  you 
choose,  so  that  I  may  have  it  put  on  the  programme. 
If  you  can't  manage  it — well,  we  shall  have  to 
resign  ourselves  to  it,  but  with  a  heavy  heart. 
Yours  ever, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — It    will  take    place    at    3  o'clock,    before 
going  to  Flaubert. 

Tourguéneff  used  to  get  up  musical  and  literary 
afternoons  and  evenings  for  the  benefit  of  various 
charities.  It  was  for  one  of  these  afternoons  that 
he  was  asking  Zola's  co-operation.  In  spite  of  the 
nervousness  and  stage-fright  he  then  suffered  from 
216 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

when  he  appeared  in  public,  the  author  of  Les 
Rougon  Macquart  consented  to  read  the  charming 
episode  of  Miette  and  Sylvére  at  the  pults- 
mitoyen  I  (La  Fortune  des  Rougon).  A  propos  of 
this  the  master  wrote  to  me  as  follows  :  "  The 
reading  I  gave  at  Madame  Viar dot's  matinée 
was  really  my  first  public  reading,  and  I  didn't 
sleep  for  three  nights  beforehand."  How  great 
must  have  been  Zola's  wish  to  please  his  friend  to 
induce  him  to  po  through  such  a  formidable 
ordeal  ! 

XXIII. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  expect  Flaubert  gave 
you  the  programme  yesterday  (as  well  as  Stassule- 
vitch's  enclosure).  So  it's  settled  for  Saturday  at 
3  o'clock.  But  if  you  would  care  to  have  a 
rehearsal,  which  I  almost  think  will  be  necessary,  I 
could  come  to  your  house  to-morrow  (Tuesday) 
about  4  o'clock,  and  we'll  arrange  the  whole 
matter.  It'll  only  take  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at 
most.     I  await  your  answer. 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

1  A  puits-mitoyen  is  a  well  belonging  equally  to  two  properties. — 
Translator's  Note. 


217 


Uouraucnetf  anfc 


XXIV. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday^   January   13,  1 877. 
My  dear  Friend, — Tuesday   is  impossible  for 
me.    Any  other  day  (except  Tuesday)  I  am  at  your 
disposal. 

The  January  number  of  Le  Messager  de  l'Europe 
has  just  been  sent  me.  For  once  in  a  way  your 
article  on  Balzac  takes  up  forty  pages — your  letter 
(on  the  clergy),  with  which  Flaubert  is  quite 
delighted,   thirty-three   pages. 

I'm  expecting  a  line  from  you  about  the  dinner, 
and  am,  with  many  cordial  regards, 
Yours  ever, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XXV. 

My  dear  Friend, — I've  just  been  counting  the 
pages  of  your  letter  in  the  March  number,  which  I 
received  yesterday.  There  are  twenty-one  (430— 
451).  I  haven't  yet  had  time  to  read  it.  (It  is  on 
school  life.)1  I  can't  yet  judge  where  he  has  cut 
it,  but  I  will  write  to  him,  and  take  a  very  firm 
tone,  to-day. 

I  expect  our  good  Stassulevitch  is  a  good  deal 
annoyed  just   now.     They    have  cut   out  a  whole 

1  The  exact  title  of  the  article  is  L'Ecole  et  la  vie  à  PÉcole  en 
France  ("  Schools  ami  School  Life  in  France"). 

2l8 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

novel  of  his  in  the  March  number.  But  that's  no 
reason  for  what  he's  done. 

Did  you  by  any  chance  attack  classics  ?  Under 
the  present  Minister  of  Public  Instruction  in 
Russia  they  arc  the  Holy  of  Holies.  He  has 
succeeded  in  persuading  the  Emperor  that  only 
revolutionaries  attack  them. 

You  know  you  are  dining  with  me  and  with  all 
of  us x  next  Monday,  March  26th,  at  the  Café 
Riche  at  7.30  ? 

Kindest  regards. 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XXVI. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Thursday ,  March  29,  1877. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  have  just  received  a 
letter  from  Stassulevitch  in  which  he  assures  me  that 
he  cut  out  absolutely  nothing  from  your  last  letter, 
and  in  proof  of  this  he  sends  it  to  me,  asking  me  to 
compare  it  with  the  original.  I  have  not  been  able 
to  do  so  to-day,  for  I  have  lent  the  number  of  Le 
Messager  de  l'Europe  to  a  gentleman,  who  is  to 
bring  it  back  to  me  to-morrow  ;  but  I  can't  believe 
St.  can  have  meant  to  mislead  me  :  it  would  be  too 
easy  to  prove  the  deception — he  himself  would  have 
given    me    the    means    to   do  so — and   I  can   only 

1   With  Flaubert,  Concourt,  and  Daudet. 
219 


UeurguénefC  anb 

suppose  you   must  have  made  a  mistake  as  to  the 
length  of  your  "  copy." 

We  shall  meet  soon — Sunday,  in  any  case,  at 
Flaubert's.  I  shall  have  a  proposal  to  submit  to 
you  which  was  made  to  me  the  other  day. 

Kindest  regards. 

Ever  yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XXVII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Friday,  May    18,    1877. 
My  dear  Zola, — -I  am  still  suffering  from  this 
fiendish  gout,  which  will  not  leave   me  altogether. 
However,   I   hope  to  be  able   to    leave    about    the 
middle   of  next   week. 

I  am  sending  you  back  your  two  MS.  feuilletons. 
If  I  possibly  can  I  shall  come  to  Flaubert's  to- 
morrow, and  shall  see  you  there.  But  I  want  now 
to  ask  you  a  favour  :  Can  you  send  me  a  photograph 
of  yourself,  with  this  inscription  (?)  in  your  hand- 
writing ? — 

"  To  Madame  Samarski-Bykhovetz. 
Paris,  1877.  E.    Zola." 

She  is  a  worthy  lady  who  lives  at  Petersburg,  and 
who  adores  you  ;    you  would   make   her  perfectly 
happy  by  doing  so,  and  in  return  she  would  over- 
whelm me  with  gratitude.     And  indeed   she  is  a 
220 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

most  excellent  woman  and  well  deserves  this  little 
trouble  on  her  behalf.  Please  do  it,  and  I  shall  be 
very  grateful. 

What  about  your  visit  to  Saint  Berthoud — did  it 
come  off  ? 

With  kind  regards,  and  perhaps  au  revoir, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XXVIII. 

St.  Petersburg, 

June  2i/9,  1877. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  have  been  here  a  fort- 
night and  I  feel  as  though  I  had  fallen  into  a 
caldron  full  of  water  and  was  being  boiled  there 
with  every  one  else.  You  must  take  this  phrase 
figuratively,  for  from  another  point  of  view  it  is 
so  bitterly  cold  here  that  I  am  sorry  not  to  have 
brought   my   fur  cloak. 

I  am  staying  another  month  in  Russia,  and  then 
I  shall  make  a  bee-line  for  Bougival,  where  I  shall 
shut  myself  up  till  the  winter. 

I  have  not  kept  my  promise  and  sent  you  some 
subjects  before  leaving  Paris  ;  please  forgive  me. 
But  I  think  you  had  a  subject  for  the  month  of 
July.  (Your  article  on  the  army  was  extremely 
liked  here  ;  you  are  still,  as  ever,  the  favourite,  par 
excellence^)  As  for  a  subject  for  the  month  of  August, 
I  have  had  an  idea  since  I  was  here.  If  you  are  not 
221 


Uourguéneff  ant» 

thinking  of  making  a  study  on  the  inner  workings  of 
journalism  in  Paris,  as  I  suggested  when  I  wrote  to 
Flaubert — I  don't  know  whether  he  showed  you 
that  passage  of  my  letter — you  might  perhaps  send 
us  a  kind  of  idyl  on  the  South  of  France,  where  you 
are  now  staying — a  description  of  the  southerner's 
mode  of  life,  &c.  As  a  contrast  it  would  be 
most  effective,  and  I  fancy  you  would  do  it  per- 
fectly, and  that  it  would  amuse  you  to  do.  Think 
it  over.1 

I  suppose  you  are  at  work  again,  and  I  wish  you 
good  health,  rest,  and  as  much  peace  of  mind  as  is 
compatible  with  the  present  state  of  France. 

Stassulevitch    sends    you    many    kind    messages, 
and   I   shake  you   cordially   by   the    hand.     Please 
remember    me   to  Madame  Zola.     I  will  write  to 
you  as  soon  as  I  get  back  to  France. 
Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — I  think  I  have  settled  that  little  matter  for 
your  London  friend,  but  rather  differently  from  the 
way  I  expected. 

1  Zola  followed  TourguénerTs  advice  and  wrote  an  article  on 
the  French  Press  in  the  August,  i<y~~,  number  of  Le  Messager  de 
l'E.  trope. 


1ïMs  jfrencb  Circle 


XXIX. 


Bougival  (Seine-et-Oise),  Les  Frênes, 

Wednesday,  September  5,  1877. 

Mv  dear  Friend, — I  wouldn't  write  to  you 
till  I  had  seen  Stassulevitch  ;  he  was  to  have  come 
to  see  me  here  at  the  beginning  of  August,  but  he 
has  delayed  till  now.  I  have  at  length  seen  him, 
and  we  talked  of  your  novel.1  He  would  be  de- 
lighted to  publish  it,  but  it  is  impossible  for  him  to 
do  so  before  the  year  1878,  and  you  tell  me  that  its 
publication  in  France  is  to  begin  on  the  20th  of 
November.  If  this  date  cannot  be  altered  it  will 
make  the  Russian  translation  out  of  the  question. 
He  has  already  had  such  expenses  this  year  that  he 
cannot  provide  your  novel  for  the  subscribers  of 
1877.  He  also  seemed  rather  alarmed  lest  this 
new  book  should  be  like  U Assommoir  (from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  censorship,  censura  morum).  I 
assured  him  that  what  you  are  doing  at  present 
belonged  altogether  to  a  different  order  of  ideas. 
Think  over  all  this,  and  send  me  an  answer  as  soon 
as  you  can.  I'm  very  much  afraid  we  sha'n't  be 
able  to  arrange  the  affair. 

I  suppose  you  are  still  at  L'Estaque. 

I  shall  stay  here  another  month.     I  have  been 
horribly  pulled  down    by  this  infernal   gout.     (As 

1    Une  pagt  iT Amour . 
223 


gogrgtténett  aufr 

for  yourself  and  wife,  to  whom  I  wish  to  be 
remembered,  I  suppose  you  are  both  in  splendid 
health.) 

I  have  seen  no  one.  I  dined  once  with  Flaubert 
who  is  quite  well,  and  who  has  gone  back  to 
Croisset. 

When  are  you  coming  back   to  Paris  ? 

Accept   my  best   regards  and   believe   me, 
Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XXX. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Monday  (end  of  November,  1 877). 

My  dear  Friend, — Here  is  the  first  volume  of 
your  Parisian  letters  published  by  Stassulcvitch.  It 
contains  your  literary  appreciations  (of  Balzac, 
Flaubert,  Goncourt,  Daudet,  Musset,  Taine,  Ré- 
musat,  Theirs,  G.  Sand,  V.  Hugo,  Dumas  fils). 
The  second  volume  will  soon  be  out. 

As  soon  as  Stassulcvitch  has  covered  the  costs  of 
publication,  all  the  profits  1  will  be  yours,  and  you 
can  make  your  mind  quite  easy  about  it,  for  he 
is  scrupulously  honest.  It's  a  handsome  edition, 
as  you'll  see  for  yourself. 

I  am  still  reading  Le  Nabab.  There  is  no  doubt 
the  book  shows  a  great  deal  of  talent.  I  shall 
write  a  line  to  Daudet. 

224 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

I  am  still  in  bed,  but  I  have  been  better  for  the 
last  two  days. 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.    ToURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — The  book  comes  from  Stassulevitch. 

Our  readers  will  remember  that  M.  Stassulevitch 
was  the  editor  of  the  St.  Petersburg  review,  Le 
Messager  de  F  Europe,  in  which  Zola  had  been 
publishing  a  monthly  article  of  literary  criticism 
since  1875.  The  volumes  referred  to  in  this  letter 
contained  these  articles  collected  and  translated 
into  Russian. 

As  for  Le  Nabab,  we  may  compare  what  is  said 
about  the  book  in  this  letter  with  what  Tourgucnefr 
wrote  to  Flaubert  and  to  Daudet  on  the  subject. 


XXXI. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday  Morning,  1878. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  went  to  your  house  the 
day  before  yesterday,  but  was  told  you  were  still  in 
the  country.  I  hope  you'll  not  be  staying  there 
much  longer,  and  that  we  shall  begin  seeing  some- 
thing of  each  other  again.  Meanwhile  this  is  what 
I  wanted  to  say  to  you  :  In  your  last  article  vou 
said  you  should  shortly  speak  of  La  Princesse 
Borowski.  At  the  same  time  the  article  in  Les 
225  ç^ 


gourgtténeg  anft 

Débats^  describing  the  fiasco  of  this  play,  goes  on 
something  in  this  style  :  "  It  is  to  be  hoped  that 
in  future  we  shall  not  borrow  any  more  from  the 
Russian  drama."  This  is  really  too  bad  !  The 
author  of  La  Princesse  Borowski  is  a  mere  non- 
entity in  Russia.  His  first  play,  Les  Danicheff^ 
couldn't  have  been  produced  in  Russia  without 
being  hissed  off  the  stage  amid  shouts  of  ridicule — 
and  yet  here  he  is  made  out  to  represent  the 
Russian  drama  in  Fiance.  It  is  quite  possible  that 
our  drama  may  not  suit  the  taste  of  the  Parisian 
public,  but  for  quite  other  reasons  than  those  for 
which  La  Princesse  Borowski  was  hissed — the 
latter  piece  being,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  simply  a  bad 
French  play. 

As  you  know,  I  mean  to  make  you  acquainted 
with  our  real  drama  —  and  I  shall  certainly  do 
so  as  soon  as  you  are  back  in  Paris — but  mean- 
while every  Russian  would  owe  you  a  debt  of 
gratitude  if  you  would  at  once,  in  your  next 
feuilleton,  point  out  the  real  truth  of  the  case.  It 
is  really  too  wretched  to  see  M.  de  Kronkovskoï 
(!!!)  treated  as  the  representative  of  Russian 
dramatic  literature  in   France. 

We  shall  meet  soon,  sha'n't  we  ?  Many  cordial 
regards. 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


226 


TErig  jfrencb  Circle 

XXXII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday  {JJanuary  il,  1879). 
My  dear  Zola, — The  business  with  Sta...ssu 
...lc.vitch  is  settled.  He  writes  to  me  that  he 
has  telegraphed  to  Charpentier  about  it,  and  has 
sent  him  a  letter  in  which  he  has  laid  down  the 
following  conditions  :  (  1  )  The  first  half  of  the 
text  is  to  be  handed  in  on  the  1st  of  December, 
and  he  will  send  150  roubles  in  silver  (they  are  to 
send  at  once  all  that  they  can  spare)  ;  (2)  your 
novel  is  not  to  be  published  here  before  the  20/8  th 
of  February,  and  Stassulevitch  is  to  receive  the 
second  half  on  the  2o/8th  of  January,  and  he  will 
then  send  the  other  150  roubles. 

I  think  this  is  all  right.  As  to  Stassulevitch's 
solvency  and  punctuality,  they  leave  nothing  to  be 
desired  and  I  will  answer  for  them. 

Many  thanks  for  your  note,  and  I  shall  count  on 
a  ticket,  and,  if  it  can  possibly  be  managed,  on  being 
present  at  the  dress  rehearsal.  My  evenings  are 
free,  and  for  the  present  my  gout  is  leaving  me  in 
peace. 

Very  affectionately  yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


227 


Uourguéneff  anft 

XXXIII. 

Tuesday  Morning  {January  14,  1879). 
My  dear  Zola, — I  am  writing  to  you  from 
my  bed  after  a  sleepless  night,  during  which  I 
thought  I  should  suffocate  two  or  three  times.  I 
have  a  marvellous  kind  of  cold,  such  as  I  have  never 
even  heard  of.  I  am  desperately  sorry  about 
it,  but  I  simply  can't  move.  I  must  send  you  back 
your  ticket.  If  you  have  any  one  to  give  it  to, 
that's  all  right  ;  if  not,  send  it  back  to  me  and  I 
can  easily  find  a  recipient  for  it.  I'll  give  it  to  a 
friend  of  mine  who  will  applaud  just  as  much  as  I 
should  have  done  myself.  I've  every  hope  that  all 
will  go  well  this  evening,  but  all  the  same  it's 
excessively  annoying. 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


XXXIV. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Sunaay  Morning  {'January  19,  1879). 
My  dear  Friend, — My  most  hearty  congratu- 
lations upon  yesterday's  great  success.  I  was  not 
able  to  judge  of  it  de  visu^  as  I  have  been  in  bed  for 
the  last  six  days,  thanks  to  a  fresh  attack  of  gout  ; 
but  I  gave  my  ticket  to  one  of  your  great  admirers, 
Madame  Viardot's  son.  I  can  assure  you  he  ap- 
228 


Ibis  jfreucb  Circle 

plauded  you  most  vigorously.  Could  you  possibly 
get  me  a  box  for  four  people  (which  I  should  pay 
for,  of  course)  for  one  of  the  next  representations 
of  L'A.  ?  *  If  you  could  I  should  be  much 
obliged  to  you. 

Very  cordially  yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XXXV. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai 

(Saturday,  1879). 
My  dear  Friend, — What  you  have  just  told 
me  is  confoundedly  unpleasant.  I  shall  try  to  go 
to  Flaubert's  ;  but  as  I  am  starting  at  7  p.m.  I 
shall  ask  you  for  greater  safety  to  come  to  me  to- 
morrow about  11.30.  We  must  see  what  there  is 
to  be  done.2 

Till  to-morrow,  then, 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
XXXVI. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Monday,  5  o'clock  (1879). 
My    dear   Friend, — I've    this    moment    come 
back  from  Flaubert's  and  hasten  to  tell  you  that  he 

1  L' Assommoir. 

2  This  letter  refers  to  the  state  of  Flaubert's  finances. 

229 


ZEourfluéneff  anft 

is  as  well  as  he  can  be  under  the  circumstances. 
He  is  very  calm  and  philosophical  and  will  be  able  to 
get  up  in  ten  days'  time. 

I  spoke  to  him  of  the  great  matter.  He  is  very 
grateful,  and,  I  think,  shaken  in  his  decision  ;  but 
he  would  like  to  know  the  exact  amount  of  his 
salary.  I  was  obliged  to  promise  him  that  I  would 
telegraph  the  amount  to-morrow.  Isn't  it  from  7 
to  8,000  francs  (with  rooms)  ?  If  you  know 
exactly  send  me  just  one  word  in  answer  to  this, 
this  very  evening  ;  if  not  I  must  ask  Charpentier. 

A  thousand  kind  regards. 

Iv.    TOURGUENEFF. 


XXXVII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday  Morning  (1879). 
My  dear  Friend, — I  have  just  received  a  letter 
from  Flaubert,  accepting,  and  wishing  to  know  if  he 
can  count  upon  it  with  certainty.  I  shall  come  to 
you  about  2  o'clock  (if  that  suits  you  ?),  and  we'll 
plan  out  our  method  of  procedure.  If  you  prefer 
any  other  hour  let  me  know.  I'm  free  till  dinner. 
A  thousand  kind  regards. 

Iv.   TOURGUÉNEFF. 

This    refers  to   the    post    of    Custodian    at    the 
Mazarin  Library.     On  this  head  we  find  the  fol- 

230 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

lowing  entry  in  the  Goncourt  Journal  under  the 
date  of  June  8,  1879:  "He  (Flaubert)  tells  me 
that  his  affair  is  settled.  He  is  appointed  Custodian 
(ex-officio)  at  the  Mazarin,  at  a  salary  of  3,000  francs, 
which  will  be  raised  in  a  few  months'  time.  He 
added  that  he  had  genuinely  suffered  through 
accepting  the  money,  and  that,  moreover,  he  had 
already  made  arrangements  for  its  repayment  to  the 
State  some  day.  His  brother,  who  is  very  rich,  and 
dying  into  the  bargain,  is  to  give  him  an  allowance 
of  3,000  francs;  with  that  and  his  appointment, and 
what  he  makes  by  his  literary  work,  he'll  be  almost 
on  his  feet  again." 

Elsewhere  M.  Kovalevsky  relates  that  Flaubert's 
friends,  having  learnt  that  Gambetta  had  openly 
espoused  the  candidature  of  the  author  of  Madame 
Bovary,  begged  Tourguéneff  to  go  to  Rouen  in 
order  to  persuade  the  latter  to  accept  the  offer. 
Flaubert   agreed   to  do  so. 

"  Nevertheless,"  adds  M.  Kovalevsky,  "  if  I  am 
not  mistaken,  the  same  post  of  custodian  was 
promised,  on  personal  grounds,  by  Gambetta's  friends 
to  M.  Isnard.  Tourguéneff  wrote  to  Gambetta  in 
order  to  inform  him  of  the  result  of  his  interview 
with  Flaubert,  but  received  no  answer.  He  wrote 
again — the  same  silence.  He  then  decided  to  have 
recourse  to  the  good  offices  of  Madame  Adam,  to 
whose  house  Gambetta  often  went  of  an  evening. 
The  newspapers  described  at  the  time  the  scarcely 
231 


TTourquéneff  anft 

amiable  manner  in  which  this  step  was  received  by 
the  famous  tribune.  But,  judging  from  Tourgué- 
neff's  own  words,  things  did  not  take  place  alto- 
gether as  the  Figaro  stated.  Knowing  that  the 
post  was  already  promised,  Gambetta  impatiently 
replied  to  Madame  Adam,  '  Pray  do  not  press 
the  matter  any  further — it  is  impossible.'  And 
when  the  lady  of  the  house,  as  if  seeking  for 
some  one  to  support  her,  brought  Tourguéneff  up 
to  him,  Gambetta  did  not  get  up  from  his  chair,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  the  Russian  author  approached 
him  on  the  side  of  his  glass  eye,  and  could  not  there- 
fore be  seen  !  "  (  Souvenirs  sur  Tourguéneff,  by  Maxime 
Kovalevsky.     Russian  Gazette,  1883.) 


XXXVIII. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai. 

Monday.* 
My  dear  Friend, — So  be  it,  then — Monday  ! 
It  is  still  the  Opéra  Comique,  isn't  it  ? 

I  am  sending  you  a  pound  of  very  good  Caravan 
tea   and  a  little  box  to  put  it  in.     You  can  take 

1  It  was  probably  at  the  end  of  1879,  before  Flaubert's  death,  that 
Tourguéneff,  on  his  return  from  Russia,  sent  Zola  this  tea  and  this 
box,  the  latter  of  which  Zola  kept  always.  In  this  way  one  can  fix 
the  date  of  this  letter.  In  the  first  sentence  he  is  not  referring  to  the 
Opéra  Comique  theatre,  but  rather  to  the  tavern  at  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  Favart,  where  the  little  set  of  "  the  Five  "  (Flaubert,  Concourt 
Zola,  Daudet,  and  Tourguéneff)  used,  at  this  time,  to  meet. 

232 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

some  of  it  from  time  to  time,  in  spite  of  the  pro- 
hibition of  your  doctor. 

This  is  my  New  Year's  gift,  and  it  will  be  very 
nice  of  you  to  accept  it. 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 


XXXIX. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday  (January^  1880). 
My  dear  Friend, — I  am  here  for  the  moment, 
and  cannot  go  and  see  you.  But  I  know  you  saw 
Stassulevitch  yesterday,  and  I  conclude  you  were 
satisfied  with  the  interview.  Flaubert  said  some- 
thing about  the  dress  rehearsal  of  Daudet's  play  I 
(which  was  to  have  taken  place  to-day),  and  wanted 
to  take  me  to  it,  but  I've  seen  nothing  about  it, 
so  I  suppose  it  has  been  put  off.  I  feel  sure  you 
were  going  to  it  too.  Write  to  me  at  Bougival, 
so  that  I  may  come  up  here  (for  that  and  for  the 
first  performance).  In  any  case  write  and  tell  me 
what  vou  know,  and  doubtless  we  shall  meet  soon. 
Ever  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 
1  Le  Nabab. 


233 


TEoiirgueneff  anft 

XL. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Monday  Morning  (^January  26,  1880). 
My  dear  Friend, — Daudet  hasn't  yet  answered, 
but  Goncourt  writes  to  me  to  accept,  only  he  is 
afraid  he  may  not  be  able  to  come,  because  he's  got 
an  influenza  cold.  As  I  set  great  store  on  having 
him  at  this  farewell  dinner  I'm  giving,  I  propose 
to  put  off  the  dinner  until  Friday  (the  eve  of 
my  departure).  It  will  be  at  the  Café  Riche  at 
7  o'clock.  If  you  see  nothing  inconvenient  in 
this  I'll  telegraph  at  once  to  Goncourt,  and  let 
Maupassant  and  Daudet  know.  Send  me  one 
word  in  answer  to  this. 
Cordial  regards. 

Ever  yours, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 


xli. 

Spasskoïk,  Town  of  Mtsensk, 

Sunday ,  May  n/23,  1 880. 
My  dear  Zola, — Many  thanks  for  having 
thought  of  me.  It  was  like  the  pressure  of  a 
friendly  hand.  I  received  the  blow  in  the  most 
brutal  way  imaginable,  three  days  ago,  here,  while 
reading  a   feuilleton   in   the    Go/os.1     There    is   no 

1  A  St.  Petersburg  newspaper. 
234 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

need  to  tell  you  of  my  grief.  Flaubert  was  one  of 
the  men  I  loved  best  on  earth.  It  is  not  only  a 
great  talent  which  has  passed  away,  but  a  being 
of  infinite  rarity,  who  formed  a  centre  for  us  all. 

I  shall  arrive  in  Paris  in  three  weeks  at  latest.  I 
shall  see  you  there,  and  we  will  talk  over  the 
publication  of  his  novel,  which  he  was  unable  to 
finish,  and  which  is  to  be  published.1  Meanwhile 
I  send  you  my  most  cordial  regards,  and  am, 
Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XLII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Friday^  November  28,  1880. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  went  yesterday  and 
knocked  at  your  door  and  found  you  were  still  in 
the  country,  and  were  only  coming  back  in  a 
month's  time.  This  is  a  good  sign  that  you  are 
working  and  will  present  us  this  winter  with  a 
beautiful  new  work.  At  the  same  time  I  wanted 
to  ask  you  to  give  me  (in  my  capacity  of  vice- 
president  of  the  Flaubert  committee)  your  written 
consent  to  be  a  member  of  it.  I  have  acceptances 
from  all  the  others  already  in  my  possession.  Do 
please  send  me  yours.  You  know  this  committee 
will  never  have  to  meet  ;  we  have  appointed  an 

1   Bouvard  et  Pécuchet. 
235 


TEourguéneff  anE> 

executive  sub-committee  (consisting  of  the  two 
vice-presidents,  the  two  secretaries,  Goncourt,  and 
Meyer  of  the  Gaulois,  whom  we  should  like  to 
make  our  treasurer),  who  will  take  all  the  necessary 
steps  and  then  submit  them  for  the  approval  of  the 
whole  committee.  The  sub-committee  is  to  meet 
to-day,  for  the  first  time,  at  my  house. 

My  compliments  to  Madame  Zola  and  cordial 
regards  to  yourself.  We  shall  meet  as  soon  as 
you're  back,  sha'n't  we  ? 

Yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XLIII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 
Wednesday  Morning  ^January,  1 881). 

My  dear  Zola, — I've  only  just  this  moment 
learnt  from  the  papers  that  your  play  I  is  to  come 
out  on  Friday,  the  30th,  i.e.,  the  dav  after  to- 
morrow. 

I've  been  kept  indoors  all  these  last  few  days  by 
a  very  bad  cold,  but  I  greatlv  hope  to  be  able  to  go 
out  the  day  after  to-morrow.  You've  kept  a  ticket 
for  me,  haven't  you  ?  Ought  I  to  send  to  fetch  it  ? 
I  am  still  waiting  for  a  word  from  you  about  the 
rehearsal.  Stassulevitch  was  going  to  telegraph  to 
Charpentier.     Has  he  done  so  ? 

1   Nana. 
236 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

We  shall   meet   the   day  after  to-morrow.      In 
any  case  I  am, 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 


XLIV. 

Monday  Evening  (January,  1881). 
My  dear  Friend, — I  am  very  nearly  well,  but 
however  ill  I'd  been  I  wouldn't  have  missed  the 
first  night  of  Nana.  Thank  you  very  much  for 
having  thought  of  me.  You  can  give  the  book  to 
the  bearer  of  this. 

A  thousand  cordial  regards, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 


XLV. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

May  14/1,  1881. 
You  are  very  kind,  my  dear  friend,  to  ask  after 
my  health.  I've  been  rather  seriously  ill.  I'm  a 
little  better  now,  but  am  still  unable  to  leave  my 
bed.  My  doctor  declares  I  shall  be  able  to  sit  up 
in  an  arm-chair  next  week,  which  will  be  a  great 
pleasure  I  can  assure  you. 

Ever  cordially  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — You're  all  well  at  Medan,  I  hope  ? 

237 


XTourguéneft  ant> 


XLVI. 


Paris,  50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Thursday ,  December  12,  1881. 

My  dear  Friend, — Are  you  meaning  to  stay 
much  longer  at  Medan,  and  aren't  you  thinking  of 
coming  to  Paris  one  of  these  days  ?  I  should  be 
very  glad  to  see  you,  and,  moreover,  my  friend 
Verestchagin,  whom  you've  certainly  heard  spoken 
of,  would  be  glad  to  show  you  a  few  of  his  pictures, 
which  are  at  present  being  exhibited  at  the  office  of 
the  Gaulois. 

Write  me  one  word  if  you  do  mean  to  come  to 
Paris,  and  let  me  know  what  day  and  hour  I  can 
go  and  look  you  up  at  your  house,  so  that  we  may 
lunch  together  and  then  go  and  see  the  pictures. 

Many  kind  regards  to  Madame  Zola. 
Ever  cordially  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉKEFF. 


XLVII. 

Bougival  (Seine-et-Oise),  Les  Frênes, 

November  4,  1882. 
My  dear  Friend, — This  letter  will  be  brought 
to  you   by  our   friend    P.,  with  a  view  to  trying 
to    come    to    some    definite    arrangement.     The 
238 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Moscow  publisher  only  agrees  to  3,000  francs, 
payable  on  the  delivery  of  the  MS.  It  seems 
to  me  that  you  might  consent  to  this,  but  here 
is  a  difficulty  which  I  had  not  heard  of:  you 
can't  deliver  the  whole  MS.  at  present  (which 
would  be  necessary  so  as  to  order  the  illustrations). 
You  propose  to  deliver  it  in  three  instalments, 
between  now  and  March.  This  makes  the 
Moscow  publisher's  undertaking  more  difficult  ; 
he  could  quite  well  publish  the  translation  simul- 
taneously with  the  original,  but  there  would 
be  competition  on  the  part  of  translators  from 
the  printed  form.  It  would  therefore  perhaps 
be  necessary  to  deliver  the  third  part  of  the  MS. 
a  month  earlier.  And  what  would  the  dates  of 
delivery  be  ?  Let  us  suppose  the  first  to  be 
November  15th.  What  about  the  two  others? 
Explain  all  this  to  P.  ;  he  will  telegraph  it  to 
Moscow  immediately.  If  the  matter  can't  be 
arranged  this  is  what  might  be  done  :  you  might 
send  the  three  parts  of  the  MS.  to  P.,  one  after 
the  other,  for  him  to  make  not  a  translation, 
but  a  detailed  summary  (such  as  was  done  with 
us  for  Dickens's  novels  and  others),  which  should 
appear  in  the  first  three  numbers  (January, 
February,  March)  of  the  Messager  de  F  Europe. 
Naturally  this  need  not  come  out  before  the 
original,  only  it  would  bring  you  in  much  less. 
However,  it  is  still  quite  possible  that  the  Moscow 
239 


TTourguéneff  anft 

publisher  may  consent  to  receive  the  MS.  in  parts. 
Only  tell  P.  the  exact  dates. 
Many  kind  regards  from 

Yours  most  faithfully, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — If  the  MS.  has  to  be  delivered  in  three 
parts  you  can't  ask  more  than  3,000  francs.  Only 
insist  upon  everything  being  paid  in  advance  on 
the  delivery  of  the  first  instalment. 


XLVIII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

December  I,  1882. 
My  dear  Friend, — They've  informed  me 
several  times  from  Moscow  that  the  money  (for 
your  novel)  was  on  the  point  of  being  sent  to 
me,  and  in  spite  of  all  this  I've  received  nothing 
as  yet.  It  appears  there  have  been  difficulties  in 
connection  with  the  Censorship.  Nevertheless  I've 
reason  to  think  the  money  can't  be  delayed  much 
longer.  On  the  other  hand,  the  translators  are 
anxious  to  have  the  beginning  of  the  MS.  so  that 
they  can  set  to  work.  So  this  is  what  I  propose 
to  you  :  give  P.,  when  he  comes  to  see  you, 
the  first  chapter.  If  the  money  really  doesn't 
come  the  MS.  and  the  translation  shall  be  sent 
back  to  you.  /'//  answer  for  that.  If  the  money 
comes — well,  then  the  work  will  be  that  much 
240 


ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

more  advanced.  You  may  be  quite  easy  in  your 
mind  that  I  sha'n't  let  you  be  diddled.  Send  me 
a  yes  or  no  by  telegraph,  and  I'll  let  P.  know 
at  once. 

Are  you  going  to  stay  much  longer  at  Medan  ? 
I  have  been  here  for  six  days. 

Many  kind  regards. 

Cordially  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 
XLIX. 

Paris,  50,  Rue  de,  Douai, 

Sunday,  December  10  (1882). 
My  dear  Friend, — I'm  in  receipt  of  your 
note,  and  P.  has  just  told  me  that  he  is  sending 
you  a  draft  for  1,500  francs,  which  has  arrived 
from  Moscow.  Is  this  right  ?  Write  me  just 
one  word. 

Ever  so  many  kind  regards. 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 


LETTERS     TO     GUY     DE 
MAUPASSANT. 

It  was  through  Flaubert  that  Tourguéneff  made 
the  acquaintance  of  Guy  de  Maupassant. 

"  The    first    time    I    saw    Tourguéneff    was   at 
241  R 


gourguénefi  ang 

Gustave  Flaubert's,"  says  Maupassant  in  the 
obituary  article  he  wrote  upon  the  Russian  writer. 
"  A  door  opened.  A  giant  came  in — a  giant  with 
a  silver  head,  as  they  would  say  in  a  fairy  tale." 

This  first  meeting  must  have  dated  as  far  back 
as  1876,  before  Maupassant  had  begun  his  literary 
career — at  all  events,  under  his  own  name  ;  for  the 
famous  story,  Boule  de  Suif,  which  made  his 
reputation,  and  his  first  volume,  Des  Fers,  only 
appeared  in  1880.  But  in  a  letter  dated  the 
24th  of  January,  1877,  TourguénefF  already  speaks 
of  Maupassant  as  of  an  intimate  friend. 

"Poor  Maupassant,"  he  says,  "is  losing  all  his 
hair.  He  came  to  see  mc.  .  .  .  He  is  as 
nice  as   ever,  but   very  ugly  just  at  present." 

It  is  certain  that  Maupassant  from  the  very  first 
had  a  great  affection  for  the  man  and  a  great 
respect  for  the  writer.  We  must  not  forget  that 
TourguénefF  was  the  literary  companion  and  the 
intimate  confidential  friend  of  Flaubert,  whose 
influence  upon  the  author  of  Boule  de  Suif  is 
well  known.  Maupassant  listened  as  attentively 
to  the  advice  and  counsels  of  the  Russian  as  to 
those  of  the  French  master.  In  the  article  we 
quoted  from  just  now  he  seems  to  have  discerned 
in  him  one  of  the  forerunners  of  modern 
realism  : — 

"In  spite  of  his  age  and   of   the   fact  that    his 
career    was  almost  at    an    end,    he  had    the    most 
242 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

modern  and  advanced  literary  ideas,  rejecting  all 
forms  of  the  old,  obviously  mechanical,  novel,  with 
its  dramatic,  ingenious  plot,  and  only  asking  for 
life,  nothing  but  life — <  slices  of  life  ' — without 
complications  or   wonderful  adventures." 

"  The  novel,"  he  used  to  say,  "  is  the  most 
recent  development  of  literary  art.  It  is  now 
gradually  freeing  itself  from  the  stage  tricks  upon 
which  it  relied  at  first,  and  by  which,  owing  to 
a  certain  romantic  charm  of  its  own,  it  succeeded 
in  capturing  the  imaginations  of  simple  folk.  But 
now  that  taste  is  growing  purer  it  is  for  us  to 
reject  all  such  inferior  and  artificial  methods,  while 
at  the  same  time  simplifying  and  elevating  an 
art  which  is  in  its  essence  the  art  of  life,  and  which 
should  rightly  consist  in  the  portrayal  of  life  and  of 
life  alone." 

Tourguéneff,  on  his  side,  was  full  of  a  sincere 
affection  for  Maupassant,  and  even  in  those  early 
days  foresaw  in  him  the  incomparable  artist  which 
he  afterwards  became.  Léon  Tolstoï  tells  us  in 
his  article  upon  Guy  de  Maupassant  how  he  first 
met  with  one  of  the  French  writer's  earliest 
works  : — 

"Tourguéneff,  in  one  of  the  visits  he  paid 
me  (I  think  in  1881),  took  from  his  portmanteau 
a  small  French  book  called  La  Maison  Tellier 
and   handed  it  to  me. 

"  '  Read    that    when    you've    time,'    he   said   to 
342 


gourguénett  ans 

me  in  the  same  apparently  indifferent  tone  which 
he  had  used  the  year  before,  when  he  gave  me  the 
number  of  the  review,  La  Richesse  Russe,  which 
contained  an  article  by  Garchine,  who  was  then 
only  just  beginning  to  write. 

"  It  was  evident  that  now,  as  then,  he  was  anxious 
not  to  influence  me  one  way  or  another,  and  that 
he  wished  to  have  my  own  independent  opinion. 

"  *  It's  by  a  young  French  writer,'  he  said. 
*  You'll  see  it's  not  at  all  bad  ;  he  knows  your 
works  and  appreciates  you  to  the  full,'  he  added, 
as  though  he  wished  to  dispose  me  favourably 
towards  him.  'As  a  man  he  reminds  me  of 
Droujinine  :  like  him  he  is  an  excellent  son,  an 
excellent  friend,  a  man  to  be  trusted,  and,  more- 
over, he  is  in  touch  with  working  men — advises 
them  and   helps  them.'  " 

The  friendship  between  the  two  writers  lasted 
till  Tourgueneff's  death,  and  of  all  the  articles 
which  were  written  when  that  event  occurred, 
Maupassant's  was  the  most  enthusiastic. 

As  to  their  correspondence,  which  must  have 
been  a  fairly  lengthy  one,  I  have  only  been  able 
to  collect  the  six  following  letters.  These  I 
owe  to  M.  Lavareille,  Maupassant's  executor,  who 
was  kind  enough  to  get  permission  from  Madame 
Maupassant  (senior)  to  send  them  to  me. 


244 


Ibis  tfrencb  Circle 


Bougival,  Les  Frênes, 

Monday,  November  15,  1880. 

My  dear  Friend, — I  want  to  speak  to  you 
upon  rather  a  delicate  matter,  but  which  I  am  sure 
you  will  quite  understand.  Do  you  know,  all 
things  considered,  I  would  rather  you  didn't  write 
that  article  upon  me.  You  would  do  it  admir- 
ably, with  great  tact  and  moderation  ;  but  I'm 
afraid  people  would  think  it — forgive  me  the 
expression — a  kind  of  friendly  log-rolling.  Seriously 
speaking,  I  am  not  enough  read  in  France  for  a 
special  article  on  me  to  be  necessary.  At  all 
events,  if  you  want  to  publish  a  series  of  articles  in 
the  Gaulois  upon  great  foreign  writers — an  idea 
which  meets  with  my  entire  approbation,  and  for 
which  I  put  myself  entirely  at  your  disposal  in  the 
matter  of  getting  information,  &c. — I  must  beg 
you  to  let  me  take  my  proper  place  and  pass  in  my 
proper  turn. 

Begin,  for  instance,  in  the  case  of  Russia,  by 
Pouschkine  and  Gogol  ;  in  that  of  England,  by 
Dickens  ;  in  that  of  Germany,  by  Goethe,  at  whom 
Barbey  d'Aurevilly  has  stupidly  been  throwing 
mud  just  lately  ;  and  then,  if  you  find  it  takes,  you 
can  pass  on  to  the  dii  minorum  gentium.  I  am  sure 
245 


gonrgneneg  anft 

you   will   take  what  I   have  said  in  good  part,  and 
will  understand  my  reasons  for  it. 

Au    revoir   soon,   I    hope.       Meanwhile    believe 

me, 

Yours  affectionately, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 

Guy  de  Maupassant  did  not  carry  out  his  inten- 
tion of  writing  a  series  of  articles  upon  the  chief 
representatives  of  foreign  literature.  Indeed,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  this  was  only  a  pretext  for  obtain- 
ing TourguénefPs  consent  to  an  article  being 
written  upon  him  and  his  work.  The  refusal 
which  we  have  just  read  determined  Maupassant  to 
relinquish  his  idea,  and  it  was  certainly  to  his 
friend's  dislike  to  any  kind  of  "advertisement' 
that  he  alludes  in  the  following  paragraph  of  his 
article  : — 

"  Carrying  modesty  almost  to  the  pitch  of 
humility,  he  did  not  wish  to  be  talked  about  in  the 
newspapers  ;  and  more  than  once  he  was  as  much 
hurt  by  articles  full  of  praise  as  he  would  have  been 
by  insults,  for  he  would  not  allow  that  anything 
ought  to  be  written  except  literature  pure  and 
simple.  Even  the  criticism  of  works  of  art  struck 
him  as  mere  useless  verbiage  ;  and  if  ever  any  details 
about  him  and  his  private  life  were  published  by  a 
journalist  à  propos  of  one  of  his  books,  he  was 
sensible  of  a  genuine  irritation  mingled  with  a 
246 


ibis  grencb  Circle 

sense  of  shame  peculiar  to  authors  whose  modesty- 
was  almost  like  that  of  a  young  girl." 

Maupassant  was  only  able  therefore  to  write  his 
article  after  Tourguéneff's  death.  "Now  that  this 
great  man  has  disappeared  from  amongst  us,  let 
us  try  in  a  few  words  to  define  what  he  was,"  we 
read  in  it.  In  the  last  letter  which  Maupassant 
wrote  to  his  publisher,  he  speaks  of  a  series  of 
literary  studies,  which  he  wished  to  make  into  a 
volume,  upon  Flaubert,  Zola,  and  Bouilhet,  I  think, 
and,  amongst  foreign  writers,  upon  Tourguéneff 
and  Stevenson  only. 

ii. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Monday  Morning  (  1 88 1  ). 
My  dear  Friend, — I  am  very  sorry  to  hear 
you  are  not  well.  I  too  am  kept  to  my  room  as 
you  are  ;  my  gout  has  fastened  upon  me  again,  and 
I  had  to  let  Madame  Adam  know  yesterday  that 
I  should  not  be  able  to  be  present  at  the  banquet. 
Fll  write  again  to-day  to  explain  your  absence 
yesterday,  and  to  ask  for  an  invitation  for  M.  Paul 
Déleâge.  I  much  enjoyed  reading  your  story  in 
La  Nouvelle  Revue,  and  our  friends  in  the  Rue  de 
Douai  (who  are  very  difficult  to  please)  quite  agree 
with  me.1 

1  En  Famille,  a  story  published  in  La  Nouvelle  Revue  on  the  15th 
of  February,  1881. 

247 


ZTourguénefC  ant» 

I  have  not  yet  written  to  M.  R.,  not  wishing 
to  engage  in  a  useless  task,  but  as  soon  as  I  can  get 
out  and  see  the  lady  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you,  it 
shall  be  done.  This  illness  has  come  at  a  very 
awkward  time.  .  .  .  Ah,  well,  we  must  be 
patient.  Very  cordially  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


III. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Sunday  Morning. 
My  dear  Friend, — Come — all  is  well  and  I'm 
very  glad  of  it. 

English  sailors  sing  "  Rule  Britannia  !  Britannia 
Rules  the  Waves."  We  can  be  content  with  the 
first  two  words. 

As  soon  as  there  is  an   answer   from  St.  Peters- 
burg you  shall  be  informed  of  it. 
Ever  yours, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 

iv. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Sunday,  April  8,  188 1. 

My   dear  Friend, — I  am  leaving  to-night,  and 

shall  only  be  able  to  see  you  on   my  return  in   the 

month  of  August.     Meanwhile  this  is  what  I  have 

done.     I  have  seen  Du  Camp,  and  have  asked  him 

248 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

to  send  his  500  francs  to  L.  at  Rouen.  If  you 
have  not  found  the  MS.  again,  go,  in  my  name,  to 
Mdlle.  G.,  the  Parisian  lady-doctor,  who  made 
the  translation.  Tell  her  the  state  of  the  case,  and 
arrange  with  her  to  have  the  translation  done  again, 
and  be  kind  enough  to  send  it  to  Yung  for  La 
Revue  Politique  et  Littéraire.  Give  my  card, 
which  I  am  enclosing,  to  Mdlle.  G.  She  is  a  very 
clever  woman,  who  could  cure  you  of  any  illness 
you  might  be  suffering  from,  and  who  will  receive 
you  very  graciously. 

I  am  sending  you  back  your  play.1 

I  wish  you  health,  happiness,  plenty  of  work  and 
good  luck.  Your  friend, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 
V. 

Les  Frênes  Chalet,  Bougival, 

Monday^  September  26,  1 88 1. 
My  dear  Friend, — I  have  been  back  nearly  a 
fortnight.     I  went  to  see  you  ;  I  was  told  you  were 

1  This  probably  refers  to  that  "  historical  drama  "  of  which 
Flaubert  also  speaks  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Maupassant.  In  another 
place,  when  Flaubert  was  recommending  the  latter  to  Madame 
Adam,  he  says  :  "  The  young  man  had  a  little  play  of  his  acted  last 
winter  (the  letter  is  dated  1879)  at  Ballande's,  which  had  a  great 
success  :  Histoire  du  Vieux  Temps."  This  play  was  afterwards  pub- 
lished. But  no  important  dramatic  work  written  at  this  period 
was  found  amongst  Maupassant's  papers.  It  cannot  have  been 
Musotte,  for  that  was  written,  in  collaboration  with  Jacques  Nomand, 
six  months  before  it  was  acted  (in  1891),  or  La  Paix  du  Menage, 
which  is  also  quite  a  recent  work. 

249 


gourguéneff  anft 

in  Africa  and  that  you  were  to  be  written  to  at 
poste  restante  Algiers,  which  I  am  doing.  Are 
you  soon  coming  back  to  Paris  ?  and  what  are  you 
doing  ?     Write  me  a  line  and  let  me  know. 

Your  name  is  making  a  sensation  in  Russia  ; 
they  have  translated  what  is  translatable,  and  I 
have  brought  with  me  a  great,  thumping  article  on 
you  (from  Le  Golos)  ;  very  well  done  and  very 
cordial. 

I  shall  be  here  till  the  end  of  November.     I  have 
as  yet  seen  none  of  the  others. 
Yours  ever, 

Iv.   ToURGUÉNEFF. 


LETTERS  TO  AMBROISE  THOMAS, 
JULES  CLARETIE,  PHILIPPE 
BURTY,  ANDRÉ  THEURIET, 
JOSEPH    REINACH,    SCHEVYREV, 

AND  X***. 

I  am  grouping  together  here  a  few  letters  of 
TourguénefFs  which  have  a  special  character — 
single  letters  addressed  to  friends,  acquaintances,  or 
strangers.  The  order  I  have  adopted  for  their 
publication  is  simply  a  chronological  one. 

The  first  in  point  of  time  is  the  letter  to  M. 
250 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

Schevyrev,  a  celebrated  Russian  public  man,  to 
whom  Tourguéneff  wished  to  recommend  one  of 
his  French  friends.  I  found  it  amongst  M. 
Schevyrev's  papers  at  the  Imperial  Library  at  St. 
Petersburg. 

The  letter  to  Ambroise  Thomas  is  a  very 
interesting  one,  and  makes  me  regret  that  Madame 
A.  Thomas  was  not  able  to  find  amongst  the 
papers  of  the  great  composer  any  other  traces  of  a 
correspondence  which  must  have  been  a  copious 
one,  considering  the  duration  and  the  character  of 
the  relations  which  existed  between  the  French 
maestro  and  the  Russian  writer,  who  was  himself  a 
great  lover  of  music. 

It  will  be  seen  by  the  tenor  of  the  letter  to 
Jules  Claretie  that  it  was  the  first  he  ever  received 
from  Tourguéneff.  Indeed  he  wrote  to  me  that  it 
was  the  only  one.  But  he  tells  me  there  was  a 
letter  of  TourguénelF's,  which  was  published  in  Le 
Temps,  in  which  the  Russian  writer  "  defended 
himself  from  the  charge  (I  do  not  know  who  had 
accused  him,  but  it  was  certainly  not  I)  of  having 
taken  one  of  his  stories  from  Le  Pere,  a  play  which 
I  had  written  in  collaboration  with  Andrien 
Decourcelle." 

The   letters    to    Philippe    Burty    and    to  André 
Theuriet   are    a    fresh    proof  of    the    zeal    which 
Tourguéneff  displayed   in   making  Leon  Tolstoi's 
works  known  to  the  French  public. 
251 


Uourguéneff  anfr 

The  letter  addressed  to  Joseph  Reinach  refers  to 
Gambetta,  whom  TourguénefF  considered  the  most 
remarkable  statesman  of  the  Republic.  From  what 
M.  Reinach  tells  me,  it  is  doubtful  whether 
TourguénefF  ever  corresponded  with  Gambetta. 
At  all  events  no  letter  of  his  was  found  amongst 
the  great  tribune's  papers,  of  which  some  are  in  the 
hands  of  M.  Delpeuch,  a  nephew  of  M.  Spuller, 
and  the  others  in  the  hands  of  M.  Reinach.  And 
yet  according  to  M.  Kovalevsky,  whom  we  have 
already  mentioned,  TourguénefF  must  have  written 
to  Gambetta  ci  propos  of  P'laubert's  standing  for  the 
post  of  custodian  at  the  Mazarin  Library. 

Finally,  this  series  is  closed  by  a  letter  to  an 
unknown  stranger,  which  I  bought  at  a  sale,  and 
which  is  interesting  as  showing  us  TourguénefPs 
views  upon  the  vexed  question  of  the  adaptation 
of  novels  for  the  stage. 


To    M.     SCHEVYREV. 

Dear  Sir, — Allow  me  to  introduce  M.  de 
Tournefort  to  vou  —  a  friend  of  mine  who 
spent  some  years  in  Russia  as  a  tutor.  He  only 
left  because  the  climate  of  St.  Petersburg  did  not 
suit  his  health.  But  he  left  behind  him  impres- 
sions highly  honourable  to  him,  and  has  in  his 
turn  carried  away  very  pleasant  recollections.  He 
252 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

would  be  delighted  to  get  a  situation  as  professor 
or  tutor  in  a  Russian  family,  and  I  should  be  very- 
glad  if  I  could  help  him  to  find  one,  all  the  more 
so  as  I  should  feel  I  was  rendering  a  real  service 
to  the  family  who  engaged  him. 

He  is  a  distinguished  man  of  letters  ;  his 
character  and  his  principles  render  him  admirably 
suited  to  undertake  the    education    of  the  young. 

I  hope,  dear  sir,  that,  with  your  usual  kindness, 
you  will  be  prepared  to  help  me  in  this  matter, 
and  that  if  you  know  of  any  Russian  family  on 
the  look  -  out  for  a  tutor  you  will  recommend 
M.  de  Tournefort,  which  you  may  do  with  a 
clear  conscience. 

I  should  be  extremely  obliged  to  you,  and  at 
the  same  time  I  beg  you  to  accept  my  best 
regards. 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

Paris,  May  i,  1862. 


To  Ambroise   Thomas. 

3,  Thiergarten  Strasse,  Baden, 

April -2.-]^  1868. 

My    dear    Friend, — I    am   writing   from    my 

house  at  Baden,  where  I  have  been  settled  for  the 

last  few  days,  and  at  which,  by  the  way,  I  should 

be  delighted    to  welcome   you    should  some  good 

253 


Uourfliiéncff  anft 

wind  blow  you  in  our  direction  this  year.  I  only 
passed  through  Paris  at  the  end  of  March,  and  it 
was  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to  see  my  friends  ; 
otherwise  yours  would  have  been  one  of  the  first 
houses  to  which  I  should  have  gone. 

However,  it    is    not    merely  the  wish    to  recall 
myself  to  your  memory  which  has  made  me  write 
to  you  to-day  ;    it  has  to  do  with  a  matter  which 
may  interest  you.     Viardot,  the  other  day,  when 
he  was  hunting  among  his  old  papers,  came  across 
a  sketch  for  the  libretto  of  an  opera  in  five  acts,  a 
scénario  called  provisionally  Le  Fléau  cCOrchroméne, 
which  he  tells  me  he  showed  you  a  long  time  ago, 
and  which  you   must   have  thought  very   fine,  to 
judge  from   a   letter    of   yours   which    was    found 
amongst    the    pages    of    the    MS.     The    libretto 
seems    to    have    made    the   same    impression   upon 
Augier,  who  offered  to   put    it   into  verse.     This 
happened   in    1850  ;    then    you    all  went  different 
ways,  and   it  was  all   forgotten.     Viardot  read  me 
his  scénario  after  making  a  few  slight  changes  in 
it,  and   I  must  confess   I   was  very  much    struck 
with  it.     It  certainly  is  a  magnificent  subject  for 
an  opera.     The  third  act  especially  (it  takes  place 
in    the    forest    of    Dodona)    seems    to    me    quite 
admirable.      It    is    a    bit    of    the    classical    world 
brought  to  life  again  ;  and  there  is  such  a  variety 
of  tone  and  colour   in   the   whole  work   as    must 
delight    a    musician    of  any   imagination.     I   need 
25+ 


•(big  jfrencb  Circle 

hardly  add  that  you  are  now  the  only  master  in 
Europe  equal  to  such  a  task,  the  only  one  who 
would  not  be  dwarfed  by  treatment  of  the  antique. 

You  must  be  overwhelmed  with  offers  of  libretti; 
but  good  ones  are  very  rare,  and  there  is  no  longer 
any  mention  made  (mercifully,  I  think;  for  the 
subject,  reduced  to  stage  proportions,  becomes 
merely  a  rather  vulgar  melodrama)  of  Françoise 
de  Rimini.  Shall  Viardot  send  you  his  scénario  ? 
Read  it  again,  and  see  if  you  can't  make  some- 
thing of  it. 

MM.  Barbier  and  Carré  would  be  more  than 
equal  to  putting  it  into  verse.  As  for  Viardot,  he 
would  be  delighted  to  have  given  you  the  oppor- 
tunity of  composing  a  new  masterpiece,  and  that 
would  be  quite  sufficient  for  him.1 

Send  me  a  line  in  answer  to  this,  and  believe  in 
the  sincere  affection  of 

Your  old  friend, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — Do  you  still  live  in  your  old  quarters  ? 


To  Jules  Claretie. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Friday^  May  4,  1875. 
Dear    Sir,  —  I     only    learnt    quite    recently, 

1  This  idea  of  making  an  opera  out  of  Viardot's  scénario  was  not 
carried  out. 

255 


XTourguéneff  anft 

through  M.  Louis  Depret,  that  you  had  honoured 
me  with  a  visit,  for  the  concierge  of  the  house  never 
gave  me  your  card.  I  am  extremely  sorry  about  it, 
and  I  hope  you  will  excuse  what  must  have  seemed 
a  lack  of  civility.  I  should  have  been  most  happy, 
my  dear  sir,  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  so 
distinguished  a  writer  as  yourself,  and  I  shall  still 
hope  to  do  so. 

Meanwhile,  allow  me   to   present  you  with   the 
accompanying  volume,1  which   has  just   been    pub- 
lished ;  and  with  the  highest  esteem, 
I  am,  yours  most  faithfully, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


To  Andre    1  heuriet. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Saturday  Morning  (1880). 
My  dear  Monsieur  Theuriet, — Here  is  the 
book  of  which  I  spoke  to  you  yesterday.2  I  am 
sending  with  it  a  number  of  Le  XIXme  Siècle, 
in  which  I  have  written  a  few  lines  about  it.  I 
hope  that  reading  Léon  Tolstoi's  novel  will  make 
you   share    my    opinion   of  it,    and    I    thank    you 

1  M.  Claretie  thinks  that  this  was  the  novel  Fumée,  but  the  French 
translation  of  that  work  appeared  in  1868,  and  Tourgueneff  speaks 
of  a  volume  which  had  just  been  published.  It  must  have  been  a 
collection  of  stories,  for  Les  Eaux  Printanilres,  the  last  novel  pub- 
lished in  French  before  the  date  of  this  letter,  came  out  in  1871. 

3  La  Guerre  et  la  Paix. 

256 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

beforehand   for   the    kind    words   you    are  sure   to 
say  of  it  in  your  turn. 

Please  accept    the    cordial    and    affectionate    re- 
gards of 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUENEFF. 


lo  Philippe  Burty. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Tuesday  Morning  (1880). 
My  dear  Monsieur  Burty,  —  Verestchagin 
has  asked  me  to  send  you  the  enclosed  little  sketch 
(it's  from  this  sketch  that  he  did  his  picture 
L'Espion),1  and  he  hopes  you  will  keep  it  in 
remembrance  of  him. 

You  must  let  me  profit  by  this  occasion  to  thank 
you  again,  and  to  send  you  my  cordial  regards. 
Ever  yours, 

Iv.    TOURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  let  me 
know  who  writes  the  reviews  of  books  in  La 
République  Française  ?  Isn't  it  M.  Arène  ?  Let 
me  know  his  address,  and  I'll  send  him  Comte 
Léon  Tolstoi's  novel. 

1  M.  Claretie,  who  kindly  sent  me  this  letter,  writes  that  L'Espion 
represents  a  man,  dressed  as  a  civilian,  brought  before  a  Russian  court- 
martial. 

257  5 


Uourguéneff  auft 

To  Joseph  Reinach. 

It  was  through  M.  Joseph  Reinach  that  Tour- 
guéneff  met  Gambetta.  M.  Joseph  Reinach  was 
at  that  time  Gambetta's  private  secretary,  and  secre- 
tary to  the  editors  of  La  République  Française.  It 
would  seem  from  two  notes  addressed  by  Tour- 
guéneff  to  M.  Reinach,  that  it  was  Gambetta,  at 
that  time  President  of  the  Chamber,  who  wished 
to  make  TourguénefPs  acquaintance  ;  for  in  one  of 
these  notes  Tourguéneff  says  :  "  I  shall  be  happy 
to  hold  myself  at  M.  Gambetta's  disposal,  and 
shall  expect  you  on  Thursday  morning  after 
io  o'clock."  And  in  the  other  :  "I  shall  be  de- 
lighted to  go  to  M.  Gambetta's  dinner,  and  shall 
expect  you  the  day  after  to-morrow  morning  at 
the  hour  you  mention."  These  two  notes  were 
written  in  1881,  probably  in  the  month  of  January. 

Their  acquaintance  never  had  time  to  develop 
into  intimacy,  for  Gambetta  died  two  years  after- 
wards, at  latest.  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  his 
death  that  the  following  letter  was  written  : — 

Monsieur  Joseph  Reinach, — I  believe  I  am 
expressing  the  feelings  of  sorrow  and  sympathy  of 
a  large  number  of  my  fellow-countrymen  when  I 
beg  you  to  place  a  wreath  in  their  name  upon  the 
grave  of  the  illustrious  man  whom  France  has 
just  lost.  Iv.  Tourguéneff. 

258 


TfMs  jfrencf)  Circle 

To  Monsieur  X. 

Les  Frênes,  Bougival,  16,  Rue  Mesmer, 

Sunday,  "June  23. 

SiR, — I  only  received  your  letter  yesterday,  and 
as  I  am  leaving  for  Russia  on  Thursday,  and  shall 
not  be  back  till  October,  I  regret  to  say  it  will  be 
impossible  for  me  to  fix  a  day  for  the  interview 
you  ask  for. 

I  cannot  disguise  from  you,  however,  that  on 
principle  and  as  a  general  rule  I  am  against  any 
sort  of  adaptation  of  novels  for  the  stage,  and 
especially  in  this  particular  case,  Roudlne  being  a 
psychological  study. 

Some  one  has  already  tried  to  adapt  it  for  the 
Russian  stage,  but  was  obliged  to  give  up  the  idea. 

I  shall  be  delighted  to  make  your  acquaintance 
on  my  return  from  Russia,  and  meanwhile  pray 
accept  my  kind  regards. 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


LETTERS  TO  M.  DURAND-GRÉ- 
VILLE,  PRINCE  GALITZIN,  AND 
TO  THE  COMTESSE  DE  GUBER- 
NATIS. 

I  will  conclude  this  first  part  of  TourguénefFs 
correspondence  by  the  letters  which  he  addressed 
259 


Hcmtguéneff  anft 

to  some  of  his  translators.  Their  chief  interest 
lies  in  the  fact  of  their  showing  how  Tourguéneff, 
who  knew  French  perfectly,  left  it  to  others  to 
take  the  initiative  with  regard  to  the  translation  of 
his  works. 

Quite  recently,  in  an  article  on  "  Russian  Litera- 
ture in  France,"  *  I  endorsed  the  view  that  all  his 
novels  had  been  translated,  under  his  own  super- 
vision, by  Mérimée  and  Viardot.  We  now  see  by 
TourguénefPs  letters  to  his  translators  that  M. 
Durand-Gréville,  collaborating  with  his  wife, 
Madame  Henri  Gréville,  was  one  of  the  chief 
translators  of  his  works.  In  fact,  it  is  to  him  that 
we  owe  the  first  translation  of  Terres  Vierges,  Eaux 
Printanieres,  Pounine  et  Babourine,  Les  Nôtres  in  ont 
envoyé,  Les  Reliques  Vivantes,  La  Montre,  &c.  It 
was  Prince  Galitzin  who  translated  Fumée,  and  not 
Mérimée,  as  people  gathered  from  the  fact  that  the 
latter  had  written  a  preface  to  this  particular  work. 
It  is  clear  from  the  letters  which  we  are  now 
publishing  that  Mérimée  and  Tourguéneff  together 
merely  looked  over  the  proof-sheets  of  the  trans- 
lation. Count  Sollohoub  translated  Une  Nichée  de 
Gentilshommes  ;  Delavau,  several  stories  written 
about  i860,  which  appeared  in  La  Revue  des  Deux 
Mondes  ;  Xavier  Marmier,  some  other  stories  pub- 
lished by  Hachette  under  the  one  title  of  Scènes  de 
la  Fie  Russe  ;  and  M.  Charrière  the  Mémoires  dJun 

1  March  number,  1897,  of  the  Revue  Générale  Internationale. 
260 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

Seigneur  Russe,  of  which  he  made  such  an  imperfect 
translation  as  deeply  to  distress  Tourguéneff.  Since 
then  two  other  translations  of  this  work,  one  by 
myself,  have  appeared  under  the  proper  title,  Les 
Récits  d'un  Chasseur. 

It  is  quite  true  that  at  the  very  beginning  of 
Tourguéneff's  career  it  was  Louis  Viardot  who 
introduced  him  to  the  French  public,  and  people 
have  gone  on  believing  him  to  be  responsible  for 
the  later  translations  because  they  were  published 
by  Hetzel,  whose  principle  it  was  never  to  allow 
the  names  of  Tourguéneff's  translators  to  appear  on 
the  title-page  of  the  books.  One  single  exception 
was  made  to  this  rule,  and  this  was  in  my  favour, 
when  I  translated  Un  Bulgare  (On  the  Eve). 

As  to  the  books  which  were  translated  by  Louis 
Viardot  with  the  help  of  Tourguéneff  himself,  this 
is  how  they  were  done  :  "  Tourguéneff,"  says  M. 
Durand-Gréville,  in  his  excellent  article  on  the 
Russian  writer,  "  used  to  dictate  as  literal  a  trans- 
lation as  possible  to  M.  Viardot,  who  then  pro- 
ceeded to  turn  it  into  literary  French  under  his 
direction.  Each  difficult  sentence,  each  doubtful 
word,  was  discussed  by  them  both,  and  the  result 
was  excellent.  .  .  .  We  have  reason  to  believe," 
adds  M.  Durand-Gréville,  "  that  Madame  Viardot 
also  collaborated  in  these  translations.  She  did  so, 
at  all  events,  towards  the  end  in  the  case  of  several 
stories." 

z6i 


TEoiirguénett  anft 

As  to  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Gubernatis,  née 
de  Bésobrasoff,  she  translated  into  Italian  Eaux 
Printanieres  and  Terres  Vierges,  but  the  latter  has 
never  been  published. 


To  M.   Durand-Gréville. 
I. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Saturday,  March  23,  1 872. 

Sir, — I  have  just  received  your  letter,  and  as  my 
journey  has  been  put  off  a  fortnight  (I  shall  only 
leave  Paris  on  the  25th  of  April),  I  confess  I  should 
be  very  much  pleased  to  receive  the  sixty-five  pages 
you  mention,  if  this  will  not  inconvenience  you. 

This  is  what  has  happened  since  I  last  wrote.  I 
received  from  a  certain  M.  Charles  de  Coutouly,  a 
brother  of  one  of  the  editors  of  U Avenir  National 
and  of  Le  Temps,  the  complete  MS.  of  a  translation 
of  Veschnia  VodyJ-  with  a  request  to  be  allowed  to 
publish  it.  I  could  only  send  him  a  refusal,  or 
rather  tell  him  that  my  word  was  already  pledged, 
and  refer  him  to  you.  Then  he  returned  to  the 
charge,  asked  for  your  address,  and  intends,  so  it 
appears,  to  make  some  pecuniary  proposal  to  you. 
I  have  sent  him  your  address,  but  1  told  him  again 
that  I  considered  myself  bound  to  you  and  pledged 

1  Lei  TLaux  Printanieres. 
262 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

by  my  word.  His  translation  is  good,  but  as  1 
have  every  possible  reason  to  be  convinced  of  the 
excellence  of  yours,  I  merely  state  what  has  taken 
place,  leaving  you  perfectly  free  to  do  as  you  please 
in  the  matter.     I  look  upon  you  as  my  translator. 

Meanwhile,  I  shall  be  much  obliged  if  you  will 
send  me  the  beginning  of  your  work,  and  believe 
me, 

Yours  most  faithfully, 

Ivan  Tourguéneff. 


h. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

o  ,  f    April  6,    |       0 

Saturday,    [MarcAz5,\    l872- 

Sir, — Your  letter,  dated  March  26th,  was  quickly 

followed  by  the  one  dated  the  20th,  and  yesterday  I 

received  the  MS.  you  had  told  me  to  expect.      M. 

de  Coutouly  told  me  more  than  a  week  ago  that 

under  the  present  circumstances  he  had  given  up 

his  translation,   or  rather  that  he  has  made  up  his 

mind  not  to  publish  it.       He  did  it  very  gracefully 

and  very  generously,  refusing,  in  advance,  to  believe 

that  your  version  was  inferior  to  his.     So,  as  far  as 

that  goes,  all  is  settled.     I  have  scarcely  had  time  to 

do   more  than  cast  a  glance  over  your  MS.,  but  I 

have    read    enough    to    be  convinced  that   M.    de 

Coutouly  was  right. 

263 


Ucmrquéneff  ant» 

I  hope  to  have  the  whole  MS.  in  my  hands 
before  I  leave  Paris  ;  and  I  am  counting  on  finding 
you  at  Petersburg,  and  making  your  acquaint- 
ance. I  mean  to  make  a  slight  alteration  in  the 
end  of  Veschnia  Vody,  to  soften  it  a  little  by  intro- 
ducing a  fresh  scene.  It  won't  take  long,  and  we 
can  easily  manage  it  in  an  hour's  time.1 

I  shall  arrive  in  Petersburg  before  the  end  of 
April  [old  style),  and  shall  return  to  Paris  in  the 
month  of  June.  I  hope  that  these  dates  will  not 
upset  your  calculations. 

I   shall  write  to  you   again   as  soon   as   I    have 
received  the   rest  of  your  translation,  and  I  shall 
come  and  see  you  the  day  after   I  reach    Peters- 
burg.    Meanwhile,  I  beg  to  remain, 
Yours  sincerely, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


III. 

Saint-Valery-sur-Somme,  Maison  Ruhaut, 

Sunday,  fuly  21,  1 872. 
Sir, — I  arrived  in  Paris  on  the  8th  of  this  month 
and  remained  there  a  week.  Unfortunately,  the 
concierge  never  gave  me  your  card,  and  I  was  unable 
to  discover  your  address.  As  I  was  coming  away 
I   left  a  letter  at   home   for  you,  which    I   should 

1  This  alteration  was  not  made. 
264 


TFMs  jftencb  Circle 

be  glad  if  you  could  send  for.  In  it  I  referred  to 
this  unpleasant  Franceschi  affair  and  to  the  com- 
pensation I  meant  to  offer  you  ;  for  neither  the 
editors  of  Le  Temps  or  of  La  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes 
will  now  accept  a  work  from  which  the  bloom  has  al- 
ready-been rubbed  off.  These  unlucky  Veschnia  Vody 
have  really  been  the  sport  of  an  evil  fate.  I  shall 
be  coming  to  Paris  in  a  week's  time,  and  we  must 
meet,  if  you  are  agreeable,  and  discuss  what  can  be 
done.  I  will  bring  you  back  the  MS.  at  the  same 
time.  It  goes  without  saying  that  you  have  my 
full  consent  to  publish  it  in  book  form.  Hetzel 
(the  bookseller,  who  is  my  friend,  and  a  delightful 
man)  will  gladly  do  it.  Go  and  see  him  from  me. 
He  even  told  me  that,  in  spite  of  the  translation  in 
Le  Nord,  it  might  not  be  impossible  to  find  some 
Parisian  newspaper  or  review  which  would  accept 
your  MS.  and  publish  it. 

Hetzel  has  already  published  several  books  of 
mine.  He  would  make  a  new  volume  with 
Veschnia  Vod)\  perhaps  adding  Stouk  !  Stouk  !  Stouk  !  l 
and  Le  Brigadier  to  it,  or  U  Aventure  de  Yergounoff, 
or  Le  Roi  Lear,  which  have  only  appeared  in  La 
Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  but  I  repeat  we  can  talk  it 

1  Toc!  Toe!  Toe!  and  other  stories  byTourguéneff.  Tourguéneffhad 
intended  to  publish  Eaux  Printanicres  (translated  by  M.  Durand- 
Gréville),  in  Le  Temps  or  in  La  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  but  another 
translation  which  appeared  in  Le  Nord  (published  at  Brussels)  put  an 
end  to  this  intention.  M.  Durand-Gréville's  translation  appeared 
later  in  a  collection  of  Tourguéneff's  works  published  by  Hetzel. 

265 


goorgtténett  anfr 

all  over  in  Paris  in  a  few  days.     I'll  let  you  know 
the  day  before  I   leave  here. 
Meanwhile,    pray   believe  me, 
Yours  sincerely, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 
IV. 

Saint-Valery-sur-Somme,  Maison  Ruhaut, 
Friday,  July  26,  1 872. 

Sir, — I  have  never  had  such  an  obstinate  attack 
of  gout  as  the  one  from  which  I  have  been  suffering 
for  the  last  six  weeks.  I  was  only  able  to  give  up 
my  crutches  yesterday,  and  it  will  be  quite  impos- 
sible for  me  to  go  to  Paris  before  the  end  of  next 
week  ;  but  I  hope  to  be  able  to  do  so  then.  You 
shall  have  a  line  the  day  before  I  arrive. 

I  have  never  felt  the  slightest  doubt  as  to  the 
reception  you  would  meet  with  from  Hetzel  :  he 
is  as  kind  as  he  is  tactful,  and  I  am  sure  you  will 
be  able  to  arrange  matters  satisfactorily  with  him. 

M.  Franceschi,  I  have  heard,  is  at  present  at 
Valéry.  I  have  no  objection  to  writing  to  him, 
though  I  cannot  believe  he  intends  to  publish  a 
separate  edition  of  Veschnia  Vody  in  Belgium.  You 
might,  perhaps,  inquire  (at  the  office  of  Le  Nord) 
what  is  his  exact  Paris  address,  and  send  it  to  me. 

I  give  you  a  perfectly  free  hand  to  offer  Veschnia 
Vody  to  any  newspaper  or  review,  and  if  La  Revue 
Universelle  will  accept  it,  so  much  the  better.     As 
266 


Ibis  jfreucb  Circle 

to  the  cuts  which  Hetzel  suggests,  I  can  offer  no 
opinion  on  the  subject,  as  it  is  impossible  for  me  to 
arrive  at  any  critical  appreciation  of  a  book  so 
recently  written,  but  I  will  willingly  consent  to 
everything  and  pay  no  attention  to  my  touchi- 
ness as  an  author.  Only  I  think  it  will  be  much 
more  difficult  to  make  the  cuts  now  that  Le  Nord 
has  published  the  whole  thing.  But,  I  repeat,  I 
must  refrain  from  offering  any  opinion  upon  the 
matter. 

Comte  Tolstoi's  stories  are  meant  for  the  masses 
to  read,  which  is  not  quite  the  same  thing  as  if  he 
had  written  them  expressly  for  children.  I  have 
only  read  two  of  them.  The  second  one,  which  is 
called  Kavka-zky  Pliênik1  (it  was  inserted  in  La 
Xaria-\  is  charming  ;  I  think  children  would 
delight  in  it. 

We  will  talk  over  all  this  at  our  next  meeting  ; 
meanwhile  I  remain, 

Yours  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


V. 

Saint-Valery-sur-Somme,  Maison  Ruhaut, 
Monday,  August  5,  1872. 
Sir, — I   am    really    too    unfortunate  ;    after    six 
weeks'  suffering,  and  just  as  I   was   beginning  to 

1   Le  Prisonnier  du  Caucase.  -  V Aurore,  a  review. 

267 


goorguéneff  auft 

hope  the  gout  was  leaving  me,  it  has  seized  me 
again  in  the  knee,  and  I  am  obliged  to  go  back  to 
bed. 

I  think  quite  three  weeks  must  elapse  before  I 
shall  be  able  to  go  to  Paris  and  bring  you  back 
your  MS.  If  you  wish,  however,  to  have  it  back 
at  once,  I  can  send  it  off  to  you  with  the  few  notes 
which  I  have  been  bold  enough  to  add  here  and 
there. 

I  am  waiting  for  your  answer  and  for  M. 
Franceschi's  address  if  you  can  get  it,  and  if  you 
really  think  I  need  write  to  him. 

Some  of  my  friends  here,  whom  I  have  consulted 
about  it,  hardly  think  we  can  make  the  cutting 
suggested  by  Hetzel  ;  but,  I  repeat,  I  leave  you  a 
perfectly  free  hand  in  the  matter. 

Believe  me,  sincerely  yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 


VI. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday,  'January  5,  1 8 74. 
Dear  Monsieur  Durand, — Will  you  come  and 
see  Harmaloff's  two  pictures  (of  M.  and  Madame 
Viardot)  ?  They  are  at  present  in  the  gallery 
downstairs.  At  the  same  time  I  could  show  you 
three  pictures  which  I  have  bought  from  a  very 
young  French  painter,  E.  Vallès,  who  promises 
268 


ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

great  things.     The  best   time   to   come  would  be 
between  12  and  2  o'clock — to-morrow  for  instance. 
Please  accept  all  my  best   wishes   for  the  New 
Year,  and  believe  me, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
VII. 

48,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Tuesday,  March  11  (1874). 

Dear  Sir, — Up  to  the  present  it's  been   quite 

impossible  for  me  to  read  the  MS.  you  kindly  sent 

me,1  so,  to  prevent  your  having  a  useless  journey,  I 

must  ask  you  to  put  off  your  visit  till  Friday  morning. 

I  am  sending  you   back   at   the  same  time  the 

Leconte  de  Lisle,  and  the  feuilletons  of  Le  "Journal  de 

Saint  Pétersbourg,  which  have  greatly  interested  me. 

Believe  me,  dear  sir, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 
VIII. 

Maison  Halgan,  Bougival, 

September  10,  1874. 
Dear    Sir, — It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  inquire 
after  my  health  :  I  can  give  you  pretty  good  news 

1  The  translation  of  L'Orage — a  play  by  Ostrovsky,  which  M. 
Durand  -  Gréville  had  accomplished  with  the  help  of  his  wife, 
Madame  Henri  Gréville.  TourguénefF  looked  over  this  work  and 
made  a  few  corrections. 

269 


gourguéneff  ans 

of  myself.  When  I  got  back  here  from  Germany 
I  could  only  walk  on  crutches,  now  I  can  get 
about  with  a  stick.  I  hope  this  attack  is  over  now, 
and  that  I  may  even  try  and  do  a  little  shooting 
towards  the  end  of  September. 

I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you  before  then,  and 
as  I  mean  to  come  to  Paris  next  week  I  shall  take 
the  liberty  of  making  an  appointment  with  vou  the 
day  before. 

I  have  brought  back  the  MS.  of  U Orage  with 
several  promises  from  Ostrovsky.1 

I  have  read  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  the 
bright  and  clever  prologue  that  Henri  Gréville 
was  kind  enough  to  send  me.  As  to  Madame 
Sand,  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  about  the 
kindness  of  her  reception  ;  but  at  present  she  is  in 
her  Chateau  at  Nohant  (in  the  department  of 
L'Indre),  and  will  only  be  in  Paris  at  the  end  of 
the  year. 

I  hope  your  little  Jeanne  has  by  now  safely  got 
over  the  ever-anxious  time  of  teething,  and  I  hope 
that  both  Madame  Durand  and  yourself  will  accept 
my  most  cordial  regards. 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

1  These  promises  related  to  the  translation  of  some  of  Ostrovsky's 
works,  and  also  to  the  sending  of  some  biographical  notes. 


270 


1Mg  jfrencb  circle 

IX. 

(1875.) 

My  dear  Monsieur  Durand, — Here  is  what 
is  due  to  you  from  your  second  feuilleton — 55 
fr.  It's  not  much,  but  you  know  the  Russian 
saying  :  "  Kourotchka  po  ziornychkou  kluoyet, 
syta  byvaét."1 

Many  cordial  regards  till  next  August. 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

Tuesday,  50,  Rue  de  Douai. 


x. 

Spaskoïé,  Mtsensk  Town,  Prow  of  Orel. 
Sunday,\^e*0]  1876 

Dear  Monsieur  Durand, — Spaskoïé  is  the 
name  of  the  village  (in  the  very  heart  of  Russia) 
where  I  have  been  for  the  last  fortnight,  and  to 
which  the  letter  you  addressed  to  Bougival  has 
been  forwarded.  I  am  much  pleased  by  your  good 
news,  and  delighted  to  see  that  after  so  many 
unsuccessful  efforts  you  have  at  last  got  your  foot 
on  the  ladder.  Give  my  best  regards  to  Madame 
Durand.  I  am  sure  her  talent  will  be  greatly 
appreciated,  and  ail  the  more  so  from  its  having 
been  kept  so  long  in  the  background. 

1  "  Grain  by  grain,  the  hen  at  last  gets  satisfied." 
271 


ZTourçméneff  anft 

I  don't  get  La  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes  here  ;  but 
I  already  knew  that  the  article  on  Chevtchenko 
had  appeared.  I  am  working  tremendously  hard 
here,  and  I  hope  to  bring  back  a  novel  quite 
finished.  I  shall  only  come  back  from  the  country 
in  about  a  fortnight's  time,  and  hope  to  be  back  in 
Paris  about  the  ist  of  August. 

Madame  Sand's  death  was  a  deep  grief  to  me  ; 
she  will  always  remain  one  of  the  great  figures  of 
modern  literature.  She  was  kind  enough  to  be 
fond  of  me,  and  I  can  truly  say  I  was  devoted  to 
her.  If  you  see  the  Novoïé  Vrémia,  you'll  find 
under  the  number  105  a  few  words  of  mine  about 
her.1 

Keep  well  and  work  hard  ;  and  will  you  and 
Madame  Durand  accept  my  kindest  regards? 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

Referring  to  this  letter,  M.  Durand-Gréville 
writes  to  me  that  it  was  in  answer  to  the  one  in 
which  he  told  TourguénefF  that  his  article  on 
Chevtchenko,  which  had  been  offered  for  several 
months,  "  together  with  a  novel  of  my  wife's, 
would  appear,  on  Tourguéneff's  recommendation, 
in  the  15th  of  June  issue  of  La  Revue  des  Deux 
Mondes,  and  that  two  days  after  the  news  of 
Georges  Sand's  death  La  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes 

1  We   have  already  given  a  few  extracts  from  the   letter  to  the 
editor  of  the  Nwoïe  Vrém'ia. 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

accepted  my  wife's  novel,  U Expiation  de  Savéli 
(which  appeared  on  the  ist  and  15th  of  July),  and 
Le  Journal  des  Débats  accepted  Dosia,  which  began 
its  appearance  on  the  27th  of  June." 


XI. 

(1875.) 
My  dear  Monsieur  Durand, — I  am  sending 
you  back  the  first  pages  with  a  few  corrections. I 
You  will  see  that  they  are  very  few  in  number  and 
of  very  little  importance.  It  is  sure  to  be  all  right 
if  you  go  on  as  you  have  begun.  S  novym  (Rous- 
slcim)  godom  !  2 

Yours  ever, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 
Saturday,  "January  1 3/1 . 


XII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai, 

Sunday,  March  11  (1877). 
My  dear  Monsieur  Durand,— Here  are  two 
tickets  for  Madame  Durand  and  yourself.     If  you 

1  This  refers  to  a  translation  of  Terres  Vierges  by  M.  and  Madame 
Gréville,  which  appeared  first  in  Le  Temps  with  only  Durand- 
Gréville's  name,  and  was  afterwards  published  by  Hetzel  without 
any  translator's  name,  according  to  that  publisher's  invariable  custom. 

-  "With  my  best  wishes  for  the  (Russian)  New  Year." 

273  T 


gourgoéneff  anft 

think  the  programme  sounds  an  attractive  one,  do 
come.1 

I  must  apologise  for  not  having  been  able  to  re- 
ceive you  the  other  day,  but  I  was  really  very  unwell. 
I  have  not  been  out  since,  and  I  am  wondering 
how  I  shall  manage  to  get  through  to-morrow. 
My  mouth  is  so  swollen  that  I  can  hardly  open  it. 
Now  is  the  time  to  exclaim,  Avos  !  2 

I  have  very  little  more  copy  (MS.),  and  the 
printers  are  dunning  me. 

Kindest  regards  to  you  both. 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XIII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Thursday ',  March  22  (1877). 
Mv  dear  Monsieur  Durand, — My  friend 
M.  Viardot,  to  whom  I  gave  the  proofs  of  Terres 
Vierges  to  read,  suggests  that  we  should  add  the 
following  note  to  the  passage  in  which  Mari- 
anne's marriage  to  Solomine  is  talked  of: — 
"  If  M.  I.  T.'s  novel  had  not  been  written  and 

'  An  invitation  to  the  annual  musical  and  literary  matinee  given 
by  M.  and  Madame  Viardot  for  the  benefit  of  the  Russian  students. 
Tourguéneff  always  read  one  of  his  short  stories  at  these  matinées. 

2  An  altogether  untranslatable  Russian  word,  much  used  by  the 
common  people,  and  which  may  be  rendered  by,  "  Come  what  come 
may,  it  may  succeed  !  " 

274 


Tbi9  jfrencb  Circle 

published  before  the  political  trial  which  is  now 
taking  place  before  the  Senate  at  St.  Petersburg, 
one  might  have  thought  he  was  reproducing  it  ;  as 
a  matter  of  fact  he  prophesied  it.  For,  indeed,  we 
find  in  this  trial  the  same  generous  illusions,  the 
same  absolute  deceptions  ;  we  even  find  impromptu 
marriages  and  fictitious  marriages.  The  novel 
Terres  Vierges  has  suddenly  become  history. — 
Translator's  Note."1 

M.  Viardot  thinks  we  had  better  make  this  note, 
so  as  to  guard  against  a  certain  bewilderment  on 
the  reader's  part  ;  but  as  the  note  would  appear  in 
your  name,  I  thought  I  ought  to  send  it  to  you 
first.  I  hope  you  will  agree  to  insert  it  ;  but  if  you 
have  the  slightest  objection  let  me  know  to-day, 
and  I  will  think  it  over. 

I  shall  hope  to  see  you  again  before  you  leave 
for  Russia.     Meanwhile  I  am, 

Very  cordially  yours, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — I  must  thank  Madame  Durand  for  sending 
me  her  book,  A  travers  Champs^  which  I  am  much 
looking  forward  to  reading,  but  in  the  too  flatter- 
ing dedication  which  she  has  addressed  to  me  there 
is  one  word  which  is  out  of  place  :  one  is  no  longer 
a  disciple  when  one  has  become  a  master,  as  your 
wife  has. 

1  This  note  appeared  just  as  it  stands  in  the  feuilleton  which  was 
published  in  the  Temps,  but  was  not  reproduced  in  the  Hetzel  edition. 

275 


ZTourôuénett  anfc 


XIV. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Sunday,  4.30  (1878). 
My   dear    Monsieur    Durand, — Here  is  my 
guilty  head  (as  we  say  in  Russia)  ;  I  hope  you  will 
not  strike  it  off.     It  has  been  so  hopelessly  muddled 
for  some  time  past,  that  I  shall  end  by  forgetting 
my  own   name.     I  must  now  make  this  request  : 
don't    come    to-morrow,    but  come    Tuesday,  at  5 
o'clock.     I  shall  have  been  to  Madame  Adam's  in 
the  morning,  and  shall  have  arranged  your  business. 
This  time  you  can  count  on  its  being  certain. 
Meanwhile,  pray  forgive  me,  and  believe  me, 
Yours  most  sincerely, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 


xv. 


50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

I  Wednesday  Morning  (1878). 
Dear  Monsieur  Durand, — I  cannot  quite 
remember  whether  it  was  to-day  or  to-morrow 
that  I  was  to  come  and  see  you.  I  shall  come 
to-morrow  about  3  o'clock,  if  this  suits  you. 
Meanwhile  I  am  sending  you  a  ticket  for  our 
picture  exhibition,  at  the  same  time  specially 
276 


Ibis  ffrencb  Circle 

calling    your    attention    to    Pokitonof's    very    re- 
markable little  pictures.1 

Kindest  regards,  and  à  demain, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XVI. 

Bougival  (Seine-et-Oise), 

Sunday,  August  10,  1879. 

Dear  Monsieur  Durand, — I  must  begin  by 
apologising  for  my  delay  in  answering  your  letter, 
but  it's  not  my  fault  ;  by  some  unheard-of  mistake 
I  only  received  it  yesterday.  I  hasten  to  let  you 
know  that  I  accept  your  proposal  with  alacrity,  and 
that  I  will  send  you  back  the  MS.  of  Les  Cosaques 
as  soon  as  ever  I  have  looked  through  it  and  made 
the  necessary  corrections,  if  there  are  any  to  make. 
I'll  also  add  a  little  biographical  preface.  You  may 
depend  on  my  punctuality. 

I  shall  stay  here  till  the  end  of  September,  and 
go  from  here  for  a  fortnight's  trip  to  England. 

Kindest    regards    to    Madame    Gréville,    and    a 
cordial  shake-hand  to  yourself  from 
Yours  ever, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 

Monsieur  Durand-Gréville  says,  in  the  notes 
he  kindly    sent    me    in     1874,  that  he    wrote    to 

*  An  exhibition  of  the  works  of  Russian  artists,  held  in  the  hall 
of  the  Cercle  Artistique  Russe  in  Paris. 
277 


Uourguéneft  anft 

Tolstoï  to  ask  permission  to  translate  Les  Cosaques 
under  Tourguéneff's  supervision,  but  he  received 
no  answer.  Later  on,  in  1879,  one  of  his  friends 
in  St.  Petersburg  sent  him  a  translation  of  Les 
Cosaques,  "  but  in  somewhat  impossible  French." 
It  would  have  been  too  great  a  labour  to  correct 
it,  and  M.  Durand  had  to  give  up  the  idea. 

However,  we  read  in  this  connection,  in  a  letter 
from  Tourguéneff  to  Tolstoi,  dated  January,  1879  : 
"  There  is  a  publisher  here  who  wants  to  publish, 
in  book  form,  the  translation  which  appeared  in  Le 
Journal  de  St.  Pétersbourg.  But  as  he  knows  quite 
well  that  that  translation  is  a  poor  one,  he  would 
like  the  French  writer,  Durand  (who  knows  the 
Russian  language  perfectly),  and  myself  to  revise 
the  translation  carefully,  which  we  will  gladly  do. 
(I  would  write  a  short  preface.)  The  publisher  also 
wishes  for  your  formal  consent  to  this,  worded 
somewhat  as  follows  :  '  I,  the  undersigned,  de- 
clare, both  in  my  name  and  in  that  of  the  person 
who  translated  and  published  my  story,  Les  Cosaques, 
in  La  ^jvue  de  St.  Pétersbourg,  that  I  give  my 
full  permission  to  Messrs.  Iv.  Tourguéneff  and 
Emile  Durand  to  publish  the  said  story  in  France, 
after  making,  in  the  text  of  the  translation,  such 
corrections  as  thev  shall  deem  necessary.'  " 

"I  hope,"  adds  Tourguéneff  further  on,  "that 
you  will  see  no  objection  to  this,  and  I  can  assure 
you  that  we  will  both  do  our  very  best  to  present 
278 


Ibig  jfrencb  Circle 

Les  Cosaques  to  the  French  public  in  a  form  worthy 
of  the  story,  and  at  all  events  better  than  that  of 
the  American  translator." 

This  translation,  revised  by  Tourguéneff  and 
Durand-Gré  ville,  was  to  have  been  published  by 
Pion,  but  M.  Durand,  finding  that  the  work  would 
be  too  hard  for  the  slight  remuneration  it  would 
bring  him,  did  not  follow  up  the  idea. 

We  know  that  a  few  years  later  Hachette 
published  another  translation  of  this  work. 

XVII. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

JVednesday,  December  28,  1 88 1. 
My  dear.  Monsieur  Durand, — Here  is  the 
little  study,  which  forms  a  sequel  to  Vieux  Portraits, 
and  which  I  have  promised  to  La  Revue  Politique  et 
Littéraire.  Would  you  undertake  to  translate  it  as 
you  did  the  other  one  ?  1  There  are  a  few  difficult 
passages,  but  I  shall  always  hold  myself  at  your 
disposal.  La  Revue  wishes  to  insert  it  in  the  issue 
of  the  14th  or  of  the  2ist  of  January.  I  think  the 
14th  is  out  of  the  question. 

Kindest  regards  (and  all  good  wishes  for  the 
New  Year)  both  to  Madame  D.-G.  and  to  yourself. 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 

1  Un  Désespère,  a  story  that  Tourguéneff  had  written  at  the  same 
time  as  Les  Re'cits  d'ur.  Chasseur,  but  had  put  on  one  side,  as  the 
original  of  it  was  still  alive. 

279 


TEourgueneff  anfc 


XVIII. 


Bougival  (Seine-et-Oise),  Les  Frênes, 

Thursday ,  August  12,  1882. 

My  dear  Monsieur  Durand, — I  am  sending 
you  by  to-day's  post  a  little  volume  called  Razskazv 
V.  Gar  china.1 

M.  Eug.  Yung  has  begged  me  to  aslc  you  to 
translate  one  of  these  short  stories  (Notch ,2  p.  100) 
for  La  Revue  Politique  et  Littéraire.  Of  all  our 
young  Russian  writers  Garchine  is  the  one  whose 
talent  has  raised  most  hopes.  If  you  should  think 
it  necessary  to  show  me  the  translation  before  send- 
ing it  to  M.  Yung,  pray  consider  me  at  your 
disposal. 3 

I  hope  you  are  now  in  perfectly  good  health  ;  I 
am  afraid  I  can't  say  as  much  for  myself.  I  am 
still  unable  to  walk,  or  even  to  stand  for  more  than 
two  or  three  minutes.  I  shall  only  come  back  to 
Paris  after  the  20th  of  November. 

Give  my  best  regards  to  Madame  Durand-Gréville. 
I   have  just   been    looking  through    her  Instruction 

1   Récits,  by  Garchine. 

"   Une  Nuit. 

3  M.  Durand-Gréville  translated  Une  Nuit,  which  appeared  in  La 
Revue  Bleue  (December  9,  1882),  and  another  story  by  Garchine, 
called  Apres  la  Bataille,  published  in  the  same  review  in  1884. 
Most  of  Garchine's  other  stories  were  translated  by  me,  and  appeared 
in  two  volumes,  called  respectively  La  Guerre  and  NaJejda 
Nicdaievna. 

280 


1FMs  ffrencb  Circle 

Morale  et  Civique.     It  is  a  first-rate  book,  as  instruc- 
tive as  it  is  pleasant  to  read. 

Ever  most  cordially  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 


TO    PRINCE   A.   GALITZIN. 
i. 

7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,   BaDEN, 

Monday,  July  7,  1867. 
Sir, — The  request  you  have  been  kind  enough  to 
make  me  is  a  very  flattering  one,  and  I  should  be 
delighted  to  see  myself  in  print  in  your  admirable 
review.1  Nevertheless  I  must  ask  you  for  two  or 
three  days'  delay  before  giving  you  a  final  answer. 
My  friend,  M.  Mérimée,  at  one  time  half  thought 
of  translating  my  novel.2  I  believe  he  has  given  up 
the  idea,  but  I  shouldn't  like  to  give  the  consent 
for  which  you  ask  without  knowing  for  certain 
what  his  intentions  are.  I  am  writing  to  him  this 
very  day,  and  I  will  let  you  know  what  his  answer 
is  as  soon  as  ever  I  receive  it. 
Believe  me,  dear  Sir, 

Yours  very  truly, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 

1   Le  Correspondant.  '  Fumée. 

28l 


Uourguéneff  anfc 


ii. 


7,    SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BaDEN, 

Friday,  July  9,  1867. 

Dear  Sir, — I  have  just  received  a  letter  from 
M.  P.  Mérimée.  He  is  too  busy  to  undertake  the 
translation  of  my  novel,  but  he  has  been  kind  enough 
to  offer  to  look  over  the  proof-sheets.  I  am  sure 
you  will  readily  understand,  dear  sir,  that  one  is 
bound  to  profit  by  such  a  piece  of  good  luck,  and  if 
you  persevere  in  your  intention  I  shall  ask  you  to 
send  M.  Mérimée  the  proof-sheets,  which  I  shall 
have  corrected — here  at  Baden — before  sending 
them  to  be  printed.  I  need  hardlv  tell  you  that  I 
agree  to  all  his  corrections  beforehand.  M.  Mérimée 
will  be  in  Paris  all  through  July,  and  my  knowledge 
of  his  good-nature  enables  me  to  assure  you  that  the 
publication  will  be  in  no  way  delayed  through  this. 
His  address  is  52,  Rue  de  Lille. 

It  would  be  very  kind  of  you,  dear  sir,  to  let  me 
know  what  you  decide  ;  and  meanwhile  pray  believe 
me,  Yours  very  truly, 

Iv.  Tourguéneff. 


m. 

7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BaDEN, 

July  10,  1867. 
Dear   Sir, — I  was  waiting  to  answer  your  letter 
of  the   5th   till  I  knew  what  you  had  decided  as  to 
282 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

the  proposals  I  had  made  you,  and  I  shall  be  glad  if 
you  will  let  me  know  whether  you  agree  to  them. 

I  have  never  received  any  author's  profits  in 
France  ;  the  honour  of  being  read  there  is  enough 
for  me.  The  utmost  I  shall  ask  for  is  a  subscrip- 
tion to  this  year's  Correspondant  and  ten  of  the 
"  specially  printed  "  copies.  I  agree  that  the  title 
Fumée  is  not  a  possible  one  in  French,  but  the  one 
you  suggest,  La  Société  russe  contemporaine  would 
be  more  suitable  to  an  article  in  a  review  than  to  a 
work  of  fiction.  What  should  you  say  to  Incertitude  ? 
or,  again,  to  Entre  le  Passé  et  l'Avenir?  or  Sans 
Rivage?  or  perhaps  Dans  le  Brouillard?  M. 
Mérimée,  if  you  would  communicate  with  him, 
might  perhaps  hit  upon  something  graphic. 

I  shall  await  your  reply  ;  and  meanwhile  beg  to 
remain,  Yours  very  truly, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


IV. 
7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BADEN, 

Saturday,  August  7,  1867. 
I  must  apologise,  dear  sir,  for  my  delay  in 
answering  you.  I  have  received  the  copies  of  Le 
Correspondant,  and  this  time  the  translation  leaves 
nothing  to  be  desired.  I  promise  you  not  to  keep 
the  proofs,  which  you  are  doubtless  soon  going  to 
send  me,  a  day  longer  than  is  absolutely  necessary. 
283 


TTourauéneff  anft 

It  would  be  very  kind  of  you  to  send  me  at  the 
same  time  a  revised  copy  of  the  first  part — the  bit 
that  appeared  in  the  issue  of  the  21st  of  July. 
Believe  me,  dear  sir, 

Very  truly  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


V. 
7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BADEN', 

Wednesday,  August  14,  1867. 
Dear  Sir, — My  servant  forgot  to  give  me  the 
continuation  of  the  proofs  of  Dym,1  so  that  I  only 
got  them  this  morning  ;  but  I  am  at  work  on  the 
corrections,  and  I  shall  send  them  to-morrow,  at  latest, 
to  Raçon's  Printing  Works.  I  hope  that  this  involun- 
tary delay  is  of  no  consequence.  Will  you  be  so 
very  good  as  not  to  send  M.  Mérimée  the  proof- 
sheets  before  having  them  corrected,  as  it  will  save 
him  from  having  to  do  twice  the  work  they  would 
otherwise  entail.  I  have  been  bold  enough  to 
re-insert  a  few  sentences  which  the  editor  of  La 
Revue  Russe  2  saw  fit  to  suppress,  for  fear  of  raising 
a  storm.  But  now  the  thing  is  done,  and  the  storm 
couldn't  be  anv  louder  than  it  has  been.  When  all 
is  said  and  done,  I  still  think  I  am  a  better  Russian 

'  The  Russian  title  of  Fumée, 
-'  Michel  Katkoff. 

284 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

than  those  who  accuse  me  of  having  no  love  for  my 
country. 

Believe  me,  dear  sir, 

Very  truly  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — I  should  especially  like  you  to  adopt  my 
suggestion  for  the  translation  of  that  difficult 
passage  which  begins  on  the  last  line  of  page  46 
in  the  original  :  "  Toupoïé  Nedoouménié"  Sec. 

VI. 

7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BADEN, 

Saturday  y  August  17,  1867. 
Dear  Sir, — I  am  to-day  sending  the  last  packet 
of  proofs  of  Fumée  (which  I  received  yesterday)  to 
the  printer's,  with  all  my  corrections,  and  hasten  to 
let  you  know  that  I  have  reinserted  in  the  text  the 
Biography  of  General  RatmirofF,  which  my  editor 
saw  fit  to  shorten  and  weaken  in  the  original  ver- 
sion. I  do  not  think  you  will  disapprove  of  this. 
With  regards, 

Iv.   TOURGUÉNEFF. 

VII. 

7,   SCHILLERSTRASSE,   BADEN, 

September   11,  1867. 
Dear  Sir, — I  shall  send  back  the  first  packet  of 
the  proofs  of   Fumée  to-morrow  ;  the  others   will 
285 


XTourguéncff  anfc 


follow  the  day  after  to-morrow.  I  suppose  you 
know  that  there  are  two  chapters  (the  16th  and  the 
17th)  left  out  ?  The  hardest  passages  are  in  those 
two  chapters.  I  should  particularly  like  to  see  them 
before  they  go  to  be  printed  ;  in  fact  it  is  abso- 
lutely essential  that  I  should  do  so,  and  I  promise 
you  I  will  respect  your  scruples. 

I  am  very  sorry,  dear  sir,  that  you  did  not  wait 
for  me  to  return  the  proof-sheets  before  sending 
them  to  M.  Mérimée  :  it  gives  him  twice  as  much 
work  and  twice  as  much  trouble.  I  have  had  to 
correct  a  great  many  passages,  and  I  can  see  from 
M.  Mcrimce's  letters  that  he  often  finds  himself 
struggling  with  difficulties  which  arise  solely  from 
an  incorrect  interpretation.  It  would  be  infinitely 
better  only  to  send  him  a  revised  copy. 

I  have  made  bold  to  add  a  few  short  passages,  as 
I  did  in  the  first  part.     I  hope,  dear  sir,  that  you 
will  agree  to  my  corrections,  and  I  am  impatiently 
awaiting  the  two  chapters  which  were  kept  back. 
Believe  me, 

Yours  truly, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 

VIII. 
7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BADEN, 

September  15,  1867. 
My  dear  Prince, — To-day  is  the  15th,  and  I 
have  not  yet  received  the  two  chapters  you  kept 
286 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

back.    Will  you  kindly  give  orders  that  they  should 
be  sent  to  me  as  soon  as  possible  ? 

I  have  translated  "  Samorodok  "  as  "  Rough 
Diamond  "  ;  the  ironical  term  renders  the  idea 
rather  well,  and  Potoughine  does  not  accuse  his 
fellow-countrymen  of  humbug,  but  of  that  hatred 
of  work,  that  confidence  in  Nature's  gifts  which  is 
the  chief  characteristic  of  the  Russian  "  Samoro- 
dok." I  hope  you  will  adopt  this  rendering. 
Believe  me,  dear  Sir, 

Yours  very  truly, 

Iv.    ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. —  'The  proof-sheets  have  this  moment  arrived; 
I  will  read  them  through  carefully  and  send  them 
back  at  once.  May  I  beg  you  again  not  to  send 
them  to  M.  Mérimée  before  I  have  corrected  them  ? 


IX. 

7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BADEN, 

Saturday ,  October  19,  1867. 
Dear  Sir, — I  have  received  the  first  three 
printed  folios  of  Fumée,  but  I  don't  know  whether 
you  mean  to  go  on  publishing  it  in  Le  Correspon- 
dant in  the  face  of  the  difficulties  which  seem  to 
have  arisen.  But  may  I  remind  you  that  I  have 
not  yet  had  all  the  proof-sheets  ?  The  last  instal- 
ments have  not  been  sent  to  me,  and  if  the  publi- 
287 


TEouraucneff  anft 

cation  is  to  be  continued  or  to  conclude  in  the  issue 
of  the  25th  of  October  I  should  be  obliged  if  you 
would  not  let  anything  appear  without  my  first 
looking  through  it. 

Believe  mc, 

Yours  very  truly, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


7,  ScHILLERSTRASSE,   BADEN, 

November  14,  1867. 
Dear  Sir, — I  have  just  sent  the  two  last  instal- 
ments of  Fumce  to  the  Raçon  Printing  Works.  An 
absence  of  several  days  prevented  my  doing  so 
before.  May  I  call  your  attention  to  several  im- 
portant corrections  ?  I  don't  know  whether  M. 
Mérimée  is  still  in  Paris  ;  if  he  has  not  left,  I  hope 
he  will  continue  his  good  offices  to  the  end. 

I  have  received  the  printed  sheets  of  Fumee 
(pp.  1-96),  for  which  I  am  much  obliged. 

I  must  also  thank  you  for  offering  to  send  me 
Troustchoby.1  I  already  possess  that  novel,  which  I 
think  is  too  closely  copied  from  Les  Mystères  de 
Paris. 

Believe  me,  dear  Sir, 

Very  truly  yours, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

1  The  real  title  of  this  novel  is  Les  Bouges  de  St.  Pc'tersbourg,  and 
the  author  is  Krestovsky.     TourguénefF  speaks  of  it  by  one  Russian 
word,  which  means  Bouges,  or  Rookeries. 
288 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 


XI. 


7,  SCHILLERSTRASSE,  BaDEN, 

November  28,  1867. 

Dear  Sir, — I  should  be  much  obliged  if  you 
would  give  orders  to  the  printing-works  of  Le  Cor- 
respondant to  send  me  the  few  "  specially  printed  " 
copies  of  Fumée,  which  were  promised  to  me.  I 
have  only  received  one  copy  which  contains  the 
first  four  sheets. 

I  must  thank  you  very  much  for  the  kind  manner 
in  which  you  adopted  my  corrections.  In  the  matter 
of  the  publication  which  Hetzel  is  about  to  make 
your  wishes  shall  be  attended  to. 

I   hope   to   have   the  pleasure   of   seeing   you  in 
Paris,  and  meanwhile  I  beg  to  remain, 
Yours  very  truly, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XII. 

7,  Schillerstrasse,  Baden, 

December  3,  1867. 
Dear  Sir, — I  have  just  received  the  sheets  that 
were  missing  from  the  specially  printed  copy  of 
Fumée,  and  I  must  thank  you  for  your  kindness  in 
fulfilling  my  request.  May  I,  at  the  same  time, 
make  another  one,  and  ask  you  to  send  a  copy  to 
J.  Hetzel  (18,  Rue  Jacob),  and  to  let  me  have  two 
289  u 


ZTourguéneff  anft 

others  ?    That  would  make  in  all  four  copies,  which 
I  want  to  keep  for  myself. 

I  should  be  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  do 
me  this  small  favour,  and  I  beg  to  remain, 
Yours  very  truly, 

Iv.    TOURGUÉNEFF. 


XIII. 

3,  Thiergartenstrasse,  Badek, 

April  24,  1868. 

Dear  Sir, — I  have  been  away  for  some  days, 
which  prevented  my  answering  you  before.  I 
hasten  to  do  so  now,  and  beg  you  to  acccept  my 
apologies  for  the  delay. 

I  did  not  send  you  the  Brigadir  l  because  just  as 
I  was  leaving  Paris  I  was  asked  for  it  by  some  one 
who  wished  to  translate  it  for  the  feuilleton  of  a 
newspaper.  I  promised  to  send  it,  and  as  I  only 
had  one  copy  I  was  unable  to  keep  my  promise  to 
you,  but  I'll  send  it  to  you  as  soon  as  it  is  no  longer 
wanted. 

I  will  write  this  very  day  to  Hetzel,  and  will 
speak  to  him  of  Comte  A.  Tolstoi's  novel2  in  such 
terms  as  are  fitting  to  employ  in  speaking  of  so 
conscientious  and  remarkable  a  work.     I  should  be 

1  The  Russian  title  of  TourguénerY's  story,  Le  Brigadier. 

-  This  refers  to  Comte  A.  Tolstoi's  novel,  Le  Prince  Se're'briaity, 
which  Prince  Galitzin  translated,  and  I  think  published,  but  not 
with  Hetzel. 

290 


1big  jfrencb  Circle 

very  glad  if  your  idea  could  be  carried  out,  but  it 
must  be  confessed  that  as  a  rule  publishers  cannot 
of  necessity  be  very  keen  to  publish  foreign  works. 
No  such  work  has  ever  run  through  more  than 
two  editions,  and  even  that  is  a  very  exceptional 
case,  whereas  Monsieur,  Madame,  et  Bébé  has  reached 
its  fortieth  edition.  However,  Hetzel  is  not  quite 
like  other  publishers. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Prince, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.   ToURGUENEFF. 

P.S. — I  will  send  you  the  twenty  pages  of  the 
Brigadir  separately  by  post.  Will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  send  them  back  to  me  later  on  ? 


XIV. 

3,  Thiergartenstrasse,  Baden, 

April  29,  1868. 
Dear  Sir, — I  have  just  received  an  answer  from 
Hetzel  to  the  letter  which  I  wrote  him  about 
Comte  A.  Tolstoi's  novel.  He  wants  you  to  send 
him  the  MS.  ;  he  has  promised  me  to  read  it 
through  carefully,  and  I  hope  that  this  may  induce 
him  to  publish  it.  For  my  part,  I  have  told  him 
how  highly  I  think  of  the  novel. 

I  must  apologise  for  not  having  yet  sent  you  the 
291 


goqrgtténgff  an& 

sheets  of  the  Brigadir,  but  it  will  not  be  delayed 
much  longer  now. 

Believe  me,  dear  Sir, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Iv.  ToURGUENEFF. 


To   the  Comtesse  Gubernatis. 


Saint-Valérv-sur-Somme  Maison  Ruhaut, 

September  12,  1 8 72. 

Madame, — I'm  afraid  it  is  rather  late  in  the  day 
for  me  to  thank  you  for  the  two  numbers  of  La 
Rivista  Europa  that  you  were  kind  enough  to  send 
mc,  and  which  contain  the  first  chapters  of  Les 
Eaux  Printanïeres  ;  but  the  two  numbers  only 
reached  me  quite  recentlv. 

As  far  as  I  can  judge  your  translation  is  an 
excellent  one,  and  it  will  not  be  your  fault  if  my 
story  fails  to  receive  a  kind  welcome  from  the  Italian 
public. 

I  have  looked  through  the  other  articles  contained 

in    the    two    numbers,  and    am    satisfied    that    La 

Rivista  is  a  publication  of  a  very   high  stamp,  any 

connection     with    which     would    make    me     feel 

292 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

highly  honoured,  especially  under  such  auspices  as 
yours. 

Pray  accept  my  compliments,  and  believe  me, 
Yours  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P. S. — My    permanent    address    is    48,    Rue    de 
Douai,  Paris. 


11. 
48,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

March  1%  1873. 

Madame, — I  have  just  received  the  two  copies 
of  your  excellent  translation  of  Veschnia  Vody  which 
you  were  kind  enough  to  send  me,  and  I  am  ex- 
tremely grateful  to  you. 

In  answer  to  the  question  you  asked  me,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  the  character  of  Liza  in 
Dvorianskoïé  Gnezdo  x  would  give  a  more  favourable 
idea  of  the  Russian  woman  to  the  Italian  public 
than  that  of  M.  N.2  in  Les  Eaux  Printanieres.  If 
the  novel  I  mention  should  not  already  be  in  your 
library  I  should  be  most  happy  to  give  it  to  you, 
together  with  the  rest  of  my  works. 

I  do  not  know  when  I  shall  be  fortunate  enough 
to  revisit  Italy,  a  country  which  has  left  me  such 
deep  and  lasting  impressions  and  which  I  have 
never  seen  in  the  enjoyment  of  freedom  ;    but  if 

1   Une  Nichée  de  Gentilshommes.  2  Maria  Nicolaïevna. 

293 


ZEourgueneff  ant) 

ever  I  do  go  to  Florence  I  shall  go  at  once  to  your 
house,  so  as  to  make  your  acquaintance  and  that 
of  the  distinguished  and  friendly  savant,  M.  de 
Gubernatis. 

I  am  at  once  sending  you  my  photograph,  though 
I  am  sorry  not  to  have  a  better  one  ;  your  wish  is 
too  flattering  a  one  for  me  to  delay  in  fulfilling  it. 

May  I  beg  you  to  accept  my  compliments, 
Madame,  and  to  believe  me, 

Yours  sincerely, 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 

P.  S. — I  saw  in  La  Rivista  that  my  friend,  Comte 
Alexis  Tolstoï,1  is  in  Florence.  Please  remember 
me  most  kindly  both  to  him  and  to  Madame  la 
Comtesse. 


m. 

50,  Rue  de  Douai,  Paris, 

Tuesday,  February  20,  1877. 
Madame, — I  hasten  to  give  you  my  permission 
to  translate  Nov2  according  to    your   wish,   being 
fully  persuaded  that  my  novel  could  not  be  in  better 
or  more  competent  hands.3 

I  am  very  glad,  Madame,  that  the  first  part  of 

1  A  celebrated  poet — no  relation  to  Comte  Léon  Tolstoi. 

2  Terres  Vierges. 

3  The  Italian  translation  of  Nov  was  never  published  ;  some 
extracts  of  it  were  quoted  in  a  lecture  upon  Tourguéneff  which  M. 
de  Gubernatis  gave  at  Florence. 

294 


1Ms  jfrencb  Circle 

my  novel  should  have  met  with  your  approval,  and 
only  hope  that  the  second  part,  which  you  must 
have  received  by  this  time,  will  not  spoil  your  first 
impression. 

You  will  find  on  the  second  sheet  of  this  letter  a 
dedication,  which  I  want  you  to  have  put  on  the 
title-page  of  the  volume  of  my  works  which  is  being 
sent  you  from  Moscow. 

Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  give  my  best  regards 
to  M.  de  Gubernatis  and  to  accept  my  compli- 
ments ? 

Iv.  TOURGUÉNEFF. 


CONCLUSION. 


TourguénefF's  French  correspondence,  which  I 
have  collected  and  published  here,  is  far  from  being 
complete.  It  will  be  easily  understood,  when  we 
remember  the  hundreds  of  letters  addressed  to  his 
Russian  friends  which  were  published  after  his 
death,  and  when  we  consider  how  many  connec- 
tions he  had  with  the  French  literary  world,  how 
fraught  with  difficulties  the  first  attempt  to  collect 
this  correspondence  must  have  been.  I  have  already 
notified  in  my  Introduction  some  of  the  blanks 
which  I  have  been  unable  to  fill.  The  letters 
addressed  to  Victor  Hugo,  Prosper  Mérimée,  Jules 
295 


TEourguéneff  anfr 

Simon,  Edmond  de  Goncourt,  Alphonse  Daudet, 
&c,  would  none  of  them,  for  various  reasons,  be 
comprised  in  this  first  publication.  Since  then  I 
have  learned  that  Tourguéneff's  letters  to  Emile 
Augier,  who  was  one  of  his  intimate  friends,  will 
probably  never  be  read  ;  for,  in  spite  of  all  his 
researches,  M.  Paul  Déroulède  has  not  come  across 
one  of  them.  Madame  Edmond  About  has  suc- 
ceeded no  better  with  the  letters  addressed  to  the 
author  of  Le  Roman  cCun  brave  Homme.  The 
letters  to  Maxime  Du  Camp,  if  there  are  any, 
can  only  see  the  light  in  19 10,  at  the  same 
time  as  the  other  literary  documents  left  by  him. 
Madame  Adam  wishes  to  keep  the  letters  Tourgué- 
ncff  addressed  to  her,  in  order  to  give  them  a  place 
in  her  Mémoires^  &c. 

It  would  take  too  long  to  tell  all  the  efforts  I 
have  made,  all  the  people  I  have  applied  to. 

But,  such  as  they  are,  these  Letters  serve  not  only 
to  reveal  to  us  some  new  characteristics  of  the 
Russian  writer,  but  also  to  throw  light  upon  some 
hitherto  unknown  sides  of  the  history  of  the  literary 
relations  between  France  and  Russia. 

Up  to  the  present  we  have  only  been  able  to 
publish  Tourgucneff's  letters  to  his  friends.  They 
have  already  served  to  make  him  better  known  ; 
they  have  shown  his  kindness,  his  devotion  to  those 
friends,  his  literary  abnegation  ;  and,  above  all,  they 
have  shown  us  his  literary  descent,  and  of  this  I 
296 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

shall  have  occasion  to  speak  later  on.  At  present 
I  wish  to  give  one  more  proof  of  TourguénefF's 
good  faith — that  good  faith  which  Daudet  has 
doubted. 

An  old  friend  of  TourguénefF's,  a  friend  ot  forty 
years'  standing,  M.  Pietsch,  has  sent  me  a  letter 
addressed  to  Madame  Pietsch,  in  which  the  Russian 
novelist  speaks  in  such  terms  of  Sacher-Mazoch  as 
utterly  to  preclude  the  idea  of  any  intimacy  having 
existed  between  the  two  writers.  This  letter  is  a 
fresh  proof  that  Tourguéneff  never  knew  Sacher- 
Mazoch,  and,  as  M.  Pietsch  very  truly  says,  never 
could  have  written  to  him. 

M.  Durand-Gréville,  on  his  side,  writes  to  me 
as  follows  :  "  The  story  of  the  letters  to  Sacher- 
Mazoch  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  very  unlikely 
one.  I  was  careful  not  to  mention  it  in  my  article 
on  Tourguéneff.  I  once  asked  Daudet  long  ago 
where  these  letters  were  to  be  found  ;  he  turned  to 
de  Goncourt  and  said,  { Robert  Caze  had  them, 
hadn't  he  ?  '  '  Yes,'  answered  Goncourt.  And 
that  was  all.  Now  at  that  moment  Robert  Caze 
had  just  died.  A  friend  of  mine,  a  most  honourable 
and  truthful  man,  told  me  that  the  letters  had  been 
offered  to  Goncourt  for  a  certain  sum  of  money.  I  am 
convinced,  though  I  have  no  proof  to  that  effect, 
that  they  were  false  letters,  forged  for  certain  inte- 
rested purposes,  and  perhaps  in  the  hope  that 
Goncourt  would  destroy  them.  If  they  had  been 
297 


gourguénett  anE> 

genuine  they  would  certainly  have  been  published, 
for  the  sake  of  the  noise  they  would  have  made  and 
the  money  they  would  have  brought  in." 

But  we  will  talk  of  this  no  more.  I  think  the 
truth  has  come  to  light,  and  I  only  mentioned  the 
incident  at  all  because  of  the  fresh  documents  which 
I  had  received  and  which  confirmed  the  others,  and 
also  because  I  was  speaking  of  the  interest  of  Tour- 
guéneff's  correspondence  as  a  whole. 

These  are  only  incidents  in  the  man's  life.  Of 
how  much  greater  importance  are  the  Letters 
when  they  show  us  what  were  the  springs  which 
fertilised  his  literary  talent  !  Let  us  take,  for 
instance,  the  letters  to  Georges  Sand,  which  a 
French  journalist  regarded  as  only  insignificant 
little  notes.  Even  here  there  is  one  of  the  greatest 
possible  interest.  When  he  writes  to  Georges 
Sand  to  thank  her  for  the  dedication  of  her  story, 
Pierre  Bonnin,  he  says,  amongst  other  things  :  "  I 
had  meant  to  tell  von  when  I  came  to  Nohant 
what  an  immense  influence  you  have  had  upon  me 
as  a  writer."  The  careful  reader  must  have  noticed 
this  sentence,  especially  if  he  read  the  little  intro- 
duction I  wrote  to  Tourguéneff's  letters  to 
Georges  Sand.  It  fixes  a  most  interesting  point 
in  literary  historv,  and  proves  once  for  all  the 
influence  which  one  of  the  greatest  of  French 
authors  had  upon  one  of  the  greatest  of  Russian 
authors. 

298 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

It  was  certainly  not  Balzac,  as  M.  E.  M.  de 
Vogué  thought,  who  exercised  any  influence  upon 
TourguénefFs  talent.  In  a  letter  to  M.  Weinberg, 
a  poet  and  a  translator,  who  had  asked  him  to  trans- 
late one  of  Balzac's  works  into  Russian,  Tourguéneff 
tells  him  he  cannot  find  time  to  do  so.  "  I  would 
sooner  have  translated  a  few  pages  of  Rabelais  or  of 
Montaigne,"  he  adds,  "  but  nothing  of  Balzac,  for 
that  writer  is  so  utterly  foreign  and  unsympathetic 
to  my  nature,  that  I  have  never  been  able  to  read 
ten  pages  of  his  on  end." 

Georges  Sand's  influence  is  the  only  one  that 
Tourguéneff  himself  recognises.  This  fact,  which 
I  believe  has  never  been  touched  upon  before  in 
France,  has  often  been  noticed  in  Russia.  Quite 
recently  a  woman-novelist  of  great  talent,  who  is 
known  by  the  pseudonym  of  Karénine,  mentioned 
the  influence  of  Georges  Sand  upon  several  Russian 
writers  :  Dostoievsky,  Grigorovitch,  Saltykov 
(Stchédrine),  and  especially  Tourguéneff.  Karénine, 
for  instance,  points  out  that  Roudine  is  almost  a 
reflection  of  Horace.  "  If  we  except  the  special 
characteristics  of  race  and  of  caste  which  distinguish 
Roudine  from  Horace,  we  have  before  us  the 
very  same  character,  the  same  fine,  enthusiastic 
talker,  who  carries  others  and  even  himself  away 
by  his  flow  of  words,  but  who  is  incapable  of 
action.  .  .  .  And  if  Roudine,  intoxicated  with  his 
own  talk,  dies  at  one  of  the  barricades  in  1848, 
299 


Uourguéneff  anfr 

while  Horace  carefully  refrains  from  talcing  part 
in  the  affair  at  St.  Méry  in  1832 — if,  generally- 
speaking,  Roudine  is  more  sympathetic,  more  dis- 
interested than  his  prototype,  the  cause  of  this  is  to 
be  found  in  those  very  characteristics  of  race  and 
of  caste  which  have  been  so  faithfully  and  so 
skilfully  drawn  by  Georges  Sand  and  by  Tour- 
guenert. 

Another  critic,  M.  Soumtsov,  thinks  that  there 
is  an  even  greater  likeness  between  Kacian  in  Les 
Récits  d'un  Chasseur  and  Patience  in  Mauprat. 

"  By  his  intelligence,  his  gentleness,  his  love  of 
nature,  and  especially  of  birds,  Kacian  shows  him- 
self to  be  Patience's  literary  son,"  he  says.  .  .  . 
"  Patience  has  a  hatred  of  work,  so  has  Kacian. 
.  .  .  Patience  is  a  natural  philosopher  ;  Kacian, 
thanks  to  his  inclination  to  philosophy,  was  nick- 
named V Innocent.  They  are  both  regarded  as 
sorcerers  by  the  peasantry.  Even  in  the  smaller 
details,  such  as  their  love  of  birds,  the  characters 
of  Georges  Sand  and  Tourguéneff  draw  near  to 
one  another.  .  .  .  Patience  is  shy  and  awkward 
with  women  ;  Kacian  suffers  in  the  same  way,  as 
we  see  at  the  end  of  Tourguéneff's  story.  .  .  . 
We  even  notice  one  unexplained  detail  in  Tour- 
guéneff, which  is  certainly  not  in  accordance 
with  the  life  of  the  Russian  peasant  at  that 
time  :  Kacian  can  read  and  teaches  his  daughter 
Annouchka  to  do  so.  Here  again  we  feel  the 
300 


Ibis  jfrencb  Circle 

influence  of  the  educated  Patience  as  contrasted 
with   the  reality  of  Russian  peasant   life." 

I  might  carry  this  parallel  farther  even  than 
Karénine  and  M.  Soumtsov  have  done  ;  I  might 
point  out  that  almost  all  the  characters  in  Roudine 
find  their  prototypes  in  Horace.  Are  not  Roudine's 
friend  Lejnev  and  Horace's  friend  Théophile,  one 
and  the  same  ?  Do  they  not  both  see  the  faults 
and  the  qualities  of  their  friends,  and  are  they  not 
under  the  charm  of  their  enthusiasm  r  Is  not 
Volyntsev  the  very  same  as  the  brave,  kind-hearted 
Paul  Arsène  ?  Does  he  not  suffer,  like  Paul 
Arsène,  from  seeing  the  girl  he  loves  taken  in  by 
the  high-sounding  phrases  of  a  mere  humbug  ?  Is 
not  Nathalia's  noble,  generous  soul  the  very  same 
as  Marthe's  ?  Is  she  not  deceived,  like  her,  by 
appearances  ?  Is  not  Madame  Lipine  exactly  like 
Eugénie  ?  And  does  she  not  escape  from  the 
hero's  seductions  in  the  very  same  way,  by  pre- 
ferring the  man  of  action  to  the  man  of  words  ? 

And  not  only  the  characters,  but  many  of  the 
incidents  in  the  two  stories  may  be  compared  in 
the  same  way.  But  what  does  this  matter? 
Horace  and  Roudine  still  differ  essentially  in 
setting  and  in  the  manner  in  which  the  story  is 
treated,  the  conclusions  naturally  resulting  from 
differing  racial  characteristics.  I  will  go  further 
and  say  that  Roudine  is  too  essentially  Russian 
to  have  been  taken  from  any  one  but  a  Russian. 
301 


Uourguéneff  an&  1bis  jfrencb  Circle 

Tourguéneff  took  his  model  from  Bakounine,  the 
well-known  anarchist,  with  whom  he  was  person- 
ally acquainted,  and  Roudine  is  even  more  Russian 
than  Horace  is  French  or  Werther  German. 

As  to  the  likeness  between  Kacian  and  Patience, 
it  is  certainly  noticeable,  but  this  does  not  mean 
that  there  was  any  conscious  imitation,  for  Tour- 
guéneff  we  know  took  all  his  characters  from  real 
life,  and  Patience  and  Kacian  are  types  which  are 
to  be  found  in  all  countries. 

It  is  not  reallv  in  these  smaller  details  of 
character,  of  plot,  that  we  must  look  for  Georges 
Sand's  influence  upon  TourguénefF's  talent.  It  is 
a  far  wider  one.  We  see  it  in  his  tender  pity  for 
the  weak,  and  for  the  sufferers  from  the  present 
state  of  society,  in  his  taste  for  rustic  settings,  in  the 
sobriety  of  his  descriptions,  in  the  picturesque  reality 
of  his  characters.  But  Tourguéneff  is  far  more 
of  a  realist.  In  this  respect  he  comes  nearer  to 
Flaubert  than  to  Georges  Sand. 

But  this  is  not  the  proper  place  to  go  thoroughly 
into  this  piece  of  literary  history.  I  simply  wished 
to  state  that  TourguénefF's  future  biographers  will 
find  in  these  Letters,  even  in  the  least  interesting 
among  them,  some  very  useful  material. 


Cfje  Grrsîjam  %3rrss. 

UNWIN   BROTHERS, 
WOKING  AND  LONDON. 


CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
University  of  California,  San  Diego 

JN14mPATEDUE 

Jii  11  1304 

wf\Hc8  1984 

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